On Top of the Mountain
by Lance Cortex
Summary: Having a title has its advantages and its disadvantages. One man has enjoyed the advantages for many months, but he is about to find out all the disadvantages the hard way. When all is said and done, will he still be a champion? (Chapter 10 is finished)
1. The Rivalry Intensifies

I do not own any part of WWE. I do not claim any names or events in this story as my property. Please do not sue me.

**_Author's Note_: I think we all know how wrestling works by now. But have you ever wondered what it would be like if the matches weren't pre-determined and the wrestlers themselves acted the way they do all the time? Well, under that scenario, this story will follow a brief point in the career of one of the most overlooked superstars (in my opinion, anyway) on Smackdown right now. Enjoy!**

For some people, this job is a dream come true. Thousands and thousands of young men and women from all over the country spend their whole lives training for the chance to perform in this ring. If they are lucky enough, and dedicated enough, and tenacious enough, they just might get that chance. Their reasons are varied, and their motives encompass a wide spectrum. You can literally ask any one of the these willing candidates why they want to be a WWE wrestler, and their answers will inevitably be as varied and numerous as the stars in the night sky. Some want it for the fame; some want it for the glory; some are in it for the money; and some simply want to be given the chance that they know they may never be given again. However, there is one constant among all of this variety. There is one single motivation that just about every WWE superstar and every superstar-wannabe can agree upon: _gold_. The title belts are the most coveted possessions any wrestler can have, and deep down, everybody wants to hold onto those titles.

Everybody.

This is a tale of one such champion, a man who earned his gold only to realize that being at the top of mountain meant he would only have that much farther to fall should he fail.

Chapter1:

Scotty 2 Hotty fell back, dazed, as his back landed roughly on the ring mat. Jindrak fell to his knees, the clothesline he had just inflicted on his opponent taking the breath out of him. The ref began the count, and Scotty's head buzzed as the referee's gruff voice shouted out the successive numbers. _Get a hold of yourself, Scotty,_ the superstar thought to himself as he slowly made his way to his feet, _you can't give up yet; you've got a match to win_.

Scotty stood up on wobbly legs and made his way over to Mark Jindrak, who had also regained his balance. The two young superstars had been battling for nearly 15 minutes, and Scotty was beginning to feel the effects of fatigue. Jindrak was a few years younger than he was, and in better shape too. Scotty knew that if it came down to a game of endurance, he would surely lose. No, he would have to start being aggressive and use the moves that he knew would put the young superstar away.

As Scotty shot Jindrak into the ropes, he went for a running clothesline, but Jindrak ducked at the last second, bounced off the ropes on the opposite side, and slammed into Scotty with a solid shoulder. Scotty went flying backward, but he got up to his feet in a heartbeat. As soon as he got his legs under him, however, Jindrak drilled him with another stiff clothesline. Scotty fell to the mat, the sound of the crowd and of his own heartbeat drowning out all conscious thought. His head swam from having endured one too many clotheslines. He vaguely felt himself being hoisted to his feet, and for a split second, he wondered if the match was over. His head was swimming so badly, he was not even aware of his surroundings. Was he still wrestling? Had he lost?

Just then, the persistent chanting of the fans began to reach his ears, "Scot-ty!.....Scot-ty!.....Scot-ty!" he could hear them saying. They were chanting his name. They believed in him. They knew he could finish what he had started. The young superstar snapped out of his dazed reverie, assessing his situation. He realized with a jolt that his arm was around Jindrak's shoulder. Jindrak was going for his finisher! If he connected, the match was over.

Scotty registered this fact just as his opponent lifted him into the air. As Jindrak brought his other arm around to slam his opponent into the mat, Scotty twisted in midair and broke Jindrak's grasp. As Scotty landed awkwardly on the mat, he saw that Jindrak appeared momentarily shocked that he had not connected with his finisher. Time seemed to slow down for an eternity. In that one moment of frozen time, Scotty watched as Jindrak slowly drew his arm to his side in order to regain his balance. Scotty saw that his opponent was vulnerable, and that he would only have an instant to strike.

With a speed and power born of desperation, Scotty turned and landed a solid super kick right onto the jaw of his opponent. Jindrak's head snapped back as his eyes rolled back in his head. The young man fell over heavily onto the mat, and Scotty was on him in an instant.

"One.....two...._three_," the ref counted, and motioned for the bell. Moments later, the crowd erupted as Scotty's theme music began playing. Scotty rolled off of his opponent, too dazed himself to even stand. He was completely exhausted and bruised from the grueling match, but he was victorious. He had won.

Scotty slowly drew himself up into a sitting position as ring announcer Tony Chimmel announced to the crowd, "Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner and _still_ WWE United States Champion, Scotty.....2......_Hotty_" the crowd went wild.

Scotty used the ropes to climb to his feet as the ref came over and handed him the beautiful golden belt with the American flag imprinted on the front. Scotty accepted it graciously and held it up so the fans could take pictures. The flashing of multiple cameras further disoriented the young superstar, and he decided that celebrating with the fans might not be such a good idea this time. He glanced over at Mark Jindrak, who was beginning to stir. Not wanting to be in the ring when the young man realized he had lost, Scotty decided to exit the ring as quickly as dignity would allow.

As he made his way up the ramp to the exuberant chants of "Scot-ty!....Scot-ty!....Scot-ty!" the United States Champion smiled and waved to the crowd. He knew they were expecting him to showboat for the crowd, but he was just too tired at the moment. He decided that he would make it up to them by signing autographs after the show. Yeah, they would like that.

Scotty 2 Hotty made his way into the back with the US title slung over his shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to just get back to his dressing room before an angered Kurt Angle or Luther Reigns showed up to punish him for beating their man Jindrak. As he made his way through the drab hallways of the Los Angeles Staples Center, he spotted a big man dressed in civilian's clothes making his way towards the returning champion. Scotty smiled when he saw who it was.

"Hey Kish. How's it going, man?" the young superstar asked.

"Pretty good, champ," Rikishi answered as he fell into step beside Scotty, "Congratulations on yet another successful title defense."

"Yeah, thanks," Scotty said breathlessly, "I almost didn't make it this time. Jindrak pretty much had me beat, but the fans got me back in touch with reality."

"Yeah, they do have a habit of doing that sometimes," the big man said good-naturedly, "What is it Cole is always calling them? The intangible factor?"

"Yeah, something like that," Scotty said distractedly as he reached the dressing room. He and Rikishi stepped inside to find it mostly deserted. It was still early in the night, so most of the other superstars were out getting ready for their matches. As the duo made their way over to Scotty's locker, Shannon Moore called out from where he was stretching in the corner in preparation for his Cruiserweight Title match later that night, "Hey Scotty. I see you've still got that belt. Good job, man."

"Thanks. Maybe after tonight you'll have one too," Scotty responded with a smile as he sat down on the bench and took a deep breath. The adrenaline in his veins was beginning to wear off, leaving insistent reminders of how exhausted he was. The US Champ took a deep breath and put his head in his hands.

"You alright, Scott?" Rikishi asked, concerned, "You want me to go get you some water or something?"

"Yeah, thanks Kish. That'd be great," Scotty answered tiredly.

Rikishi nodded and left the room to retrieve a bottle of water from one of the many coolers scattered about the backstage area. Scotty closed his eyes, hoping that it would cause the dull throbbing in his head to subside. For the first time in many months, he didn't feel like the fun-loving, goofy Scotty 2 Hotty that the fans had come to know and love. At the moment, he felt downright tired. How was he supposed to keep performing for the fans week after week when he didn't have the motivation?

Then the young man glanced at the US Title laying on the bench next to him. He had worked hard in this business for years, and this title was what he had to show for it at the moment. He had earned that title when he pinned Kurt Angle for it over five months ago. His mind drifted back to that night.

Nobody had expected him to win. Even the fans, who had always been behind Scotty, knew that he didn't stand a chance against a performer like Angle. After all, Kurt Angle had accomplished more in his career than almost any other wrestler in the WWE. And while Scotty had been in the business longer than Kurt, his experience wasn't going to be of much help against the crafty Olympic Gold Medalist. And yet, he had managed to shock the world and win the US Title in front of a vociferous Boston crowd, one of the most coveted titles in the entire business. As if that wasn't enough, Scotty then had to defend that title in a rematch with Angle a mere two days later. Again, he shocked the world by defeating the Olympic contender fair and square.

Scotty adored that belt. He didn't love it for the tangible aspects, though. True, the gold was appealing and incredibly beautiful to look at, but Scotty loved it more for what it represented. United States Champion. He was the second-best on Smackdown at this point in time, after the WWE Champion of course. But that didn't matter. The US Title was Scotty's. Fierce battles had been fought for it. And now it was his. He won it. He defended it. He valued it as the pinnacle of his career, his most coveted achievement.

Rikishi came back into the dressing room carrying two bottles of water. He handed one to Scotty, who accepted it eagerly and drank deeply. He wiped his mouth on a towel and said, "Thanks a lot, man. That really hit the spot."

"No problem," Rikishi said casually as he sipped at the other water bottle.

Scotty took a deep breath and glanced at his friend, "So how's your shoulder doing?"

Rikishi shrugged and began rubbing his shoulder unconsciously, "Oh, you know how it goes. It bounces back and forth between being just fine and being unbearable."

Scotty smiled as he touched his surgically-repaired neck lightly, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes there's just no telling with this kind of thing. Do the doctors know when you'll be able to wrestle again?"

Rikishi sighed heavily, "They say two more months, but it'll probably end up being more like three or four. Man, this is driving me crazy. I want to get back in the ring so bad. I don't know how much longer I can take this."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Scotty said as he recalled the year and a half he had to miss because of his neck injury, "It's like trying to quit smoking. The more time you spend away from the ring, the more you want to get back in. This business sure is something else," the US Champ reflected as he took another long sip of water, "Hey, just be glad you're not a member of 'D-Generated Necks'. If there was any club in this business that I _wouldn't_ want to be a part of, that would be it," the young man chuckled as he mentioned the club he had formed out of other wrestlers who had undergone neck injuries similar to his own.

Rikishi smiled and chuckled at the comment, but his face grew serious in a heartbeat. Concerned, Scotty looked at his friend to find that the big man was staring intently at the door. Scotty turned to see what had caught his friend's attention. His blood ran cold when he saw who was standing in the doorway.

Kurt Angle stood statuesque just a few feet away from the US Champ, arms folded in front of his muscular chest as Luther Reigns and a haggard Mark Jindrak stood right behind him. Scotty and Rikishi stood up, expecting the worst, as the trio made their way over to the recovering champion and his injured friend.

When Angle stepped to within an inch of Scotty's face, the Olympic Gold Medalist glared intently in the eyes of the US Champ. Scotty glared back, refusing to be intimidated by his rival. After what seemed like many minutes, Angle spoke in his deep voice, "Scotty, you are, without a doubt, the luckiest man in this locker room right now. Not only did you somehow manage to take MY United States Championship, but now you defeat my assistant Mark Jindrak? Do you honestly think I'm just gonna let this slide?"

Scotty realized that he was in no condition to fight, and with Rikishi's bad shoulder, he knew that the two of them didn't stand a chance should Angle and his henchmen decide to resort to violence. He banished his exhaustion and said in as brave a voice as he could muster, "You just can't get over your own shortcomings, can you? Do I need to beat you _again_ in order to prove that you're not on the same level as me?"

That did the trick. Angle's eyes lit up as if they had just been ignited, "Same level? _Same level_? You listen to me, you worthless little waste of space: I have accomplished more in the past five years than you have accomplished in your entire life. That belt is MINE, dammit! And one day, I swear to you that I'm going to get it back. Mark my word."

"Anytime, baldy," Scotty retorted, "I've beat you before, I'll do it again. Anytime you want a piece of this, just bring it."

Angle glared at the smaller man for a few more seconds while Scotty held his ground. After a few moments had passed, Angle muttered dangerously, "This isn't over, Scotty. This is FAR from over."

Angle turned to leave, and Scotty felt relief wash over him. Somehow, he had avoided a confrontation with Angle and his henchmen. A good thing, too. He doubted he would have been able to back up his words. Every joint ached and every muscle begged for rest.

However, as Scotty and Rikishi went to sit back down, Angle turned suddenly and dove at the US Champion, knocking his back onto the hard cement floor. Scotty yelped in pain and surprise as Angle began to pummel him relentlessly. The US Champ was momentarily overwhelmed as people started screaming and he could hear his injured friend Rikishi fending off Reigns and Jindrak. Scotty tried to get up, but Angle just continued to pound away on the smaller man. Scotty held his arms up in a defensive position, but the Olympic Gold Medalist continued to rain blows upon him.

Just then, he spotted Shannon Moore rushing over from the corner and tackle Kurt Angle. The cruiserweight pounded on Angle for a few moments, giving Scotty a chance to get to his feet. The US Champ groggily made it to his hands and knees before Angle grabbed Moore by the throat and slammed his head into one of the metal lockers. Moore slumped over onto the ground, and Angle advanced on Scotty, fire in his eyes.

The young superstar crawled a short distance, his entire torso aching from the pummeling Angle had given him. His hands brushed against something cold and smooth: the US Title. In desperation, Scotty's fingers closed around it just as Angle wrapped his meaty hands around Scotty's neck. With a mighty thrust, Scotty drove the US Title belt right onto Angle's bald cranium.

Angle looked momentarily confused before he fell backwards against a locker, holding his head in his hands. Scotty got to his feet unsteadily, looking around frantically for his friend Rikishi. He spotted motion to his right, and caught a glimpse of Jindrak and Reigns stomping the hell out of the big man against the far wall. Scotty ground his teeth together at the sight of his best friend being kicked mercilessly on the ground.

The champion rushed over to aid his friend, title belt in tow. He cracked Jindrak's head with it, sending his former opponent crashing to the floor in a daze. Scotty went to hit Luther, but the big man had enough time to move out of the way. Carried by his own momentum, Scotty stumbled forward. As he regained his balance, Reigns wound back his beefy arm and delivered a punch to Scotty's gut that emptied the young superstar's lungs completely.

Scotty's extremities went numb, and he dropped the belt. Reigns smiled wickedly as he delivered a stiff left to the smaller superstar's head. Scotty stumbled backwards, reeling from the blow. Stars danced in his vision everywhere he looked, and the entire room seemed to be spinning uncontrollably. Before he knew what was happening, Reigns grabbed the smaller man's head in his arms and dragged him over to one of the benches. Scotty's mind vaguely registered the fact that Reigns was about to perform his finisher move to the US Champ while standing with the wooden bench in between them. Such a move would surely be enough to break Scotty's neck, ending his career and, quite possibly, his life.

However, he was spared such a grisly fate as a dozen security officers rushed into the room and piled onto the massive Luther Reigns. They pried the big man's hands off of Scotty's head and dragged him kicking and yelling out of the room. Scotty laid on the ground, a sharp pain lancing through his chest every time he tried to inhale. That punch to the gut must have really done some substantial damage.

As Scotty's mind swam back into full consciousness, he distinctly heard the telltale voice of Smackdown's General Manager demanding to know what was going on here. Scotty uneasily made his way to his feet and looked around at his surroundings. Security guards were escorting a groggy Mark Jindrak and an enraged Kurt Angle out of the room. Angle had just enough time to shoot a hate-filled glance in Scotty's direction before he was led out into the hallway.

The US Champ glanced over at his friend Rikishi and was quite alarmed to find several medics hovering over the big man. Concerned, Scotty made his way over to his friend on wobbly feet. Rikishi was clutching his injured shoulder with a look on his face that clearly showed that he was in tremendous pain.

Scotty pushed his way past the medics and touched his friend lightly on the cheek, "Hey, Kish! Are you alright, man?"

"Ah....my.....shoulder," Rikishi sputtered as his face contorted again.

"Excuse me, sir, but we really need you to step back so that we can look at him," one of the medics told Scotty gently. Scotty backed away a few feet and watched with concern as the medics treated his longtime friend.

After an agonizingly long amount of time, the paramedics arrived and got Rikishi strapped into a stretcher. Scotty followed along as his friend was wheeled away to a waiting ambulance. When they reached the large vehicle, Scotty asked a nearby medic if he could ride with his friend. The medic nodded sagely, and Scotty climbed into the back of the ambulance with his injured friend.

Scotty watched with worry as the medic accompanying them in the back checked on Rikishi's vital signs. Every time the ambulance turned, swerved, or hit a bump, the big man would wince and groan in pain. Scotty could already tell that his shoulder was in very bad shape.

When they finally did arrive at the hospital, Scotty was forced to take a seat in the waiting room as Rikishi was wheeled away to the operating room. The young superstar sat down in the sparsely-populated waiting room and put his head in his hands. How could he have let this happen? If he hadn't tried to match Angle's threats, then maybe he and his goons wouldn't have attacked. Why did he have to let his pride get in the way of his better judgment?

He sat there for hours in the waiting room, refusing to leave until he got an update of some sort on the condition of his friend. He was going to sit there all night if he had to. Nothing could tear him away from his seat.

Scotty checked the clock on the wall - 12:47 am. The show had been over for almost three hours. Most of the superstars had probably returned to their hotel rooms by now. He wondered if anyone even knew about what had happened in the locker room. He didn't notice any cameras during the scuffle, so the fans were probably still ignorant. Scotty remembered at that moment that he didn't stay and sign autographs like he had intended. He silently apologized to his fans and hoped they would understand.

Just then, some movement from the left caught his eye. Scotty looked up excitedly, expecting one of the doctors. Instead, he spotted Shannon Moore walking toward his uncertainly. Scotty smiled weakly and motioned for the young man to sit down next to him.

Moore took a seat next to Scotty gingerly and crossed his arms over his chest. After an uncomfortable moment, he cleared his throat and said, "I've got your stuff in my car. I was gonna take it to your hotel room, but I'm not entirely sure where you're staying."

"Oh, okay. Thanks," Scotty answered mildly. He was glad someone remembered to take his gear out of the arena. It would have been a chore to get back there to get it himself.

Several more silent minutes passed before Scotty spoke up, "Hey, listen. I just wanted to thank you for your help against Angle back there. I really appreciate it."

"Oh, no problem," Moore answered with a slight wave of his hand, "I couldn't just stand there and do nothing, after all."

"Yeah, well, thanks anyway," Scotty said, "By the way, how'd your match with Kidman go?"

"Terrible," Moore said with a lopsided smile, "As I walked down to the ring, my head was still ringing from getting it smashed into that locker by Angle. I didn't stand a chance. Oh well. Maybe I'll get another shot at that Cruiserweight Title one of these days."

"Oh. Sorry to hear that," Scotty said. In addition to shouldering the blame for Rikishi's injury, now he had Moore's missed opportunity at the Cruiserweight Title weighing on his conscience. Could his situation get any worse?

Unfortunately, it could. Moments later, one of the doctors came out of the operating room to deliver the bad news to Scotty and Moore: Rikishi's already-vulnerable shoulder injury had been severely exacerbated. It looked like the big man would be out of action for at least six or seven months now. Devastated, Scotty asked how his friend was doing, and the doctor gently told him that Rikishi was still in pain, but he should recover in time. The US Champ decided to let his friend rest for now and visit him first thing tomorrow morning before the flight to the next show.

As Scotty rode back to the hotel in Moore's car, he held the US Title in his hands with mixed emotions. Was this belt really worth it? Was it worth the pain and misfortune it had brought to his friends? True, it was a magnificent symbol of success and skill, but at the moment, Scotty almost wished that he didn't have it. If it weren't for this title, Rikishi wouldn't be recovering in a hospital bed right now, Shannon Moore may be the new Cruiserweight Champion, and Scotty wouldn't be feeling such fierce guilt and despair.

_No_, Scotty reminded himself, _I'm not the one to blame. I didn't hurt my friends. It's Angle. He's the one who did this to us. Angle and Reigns and Jindrak. They're the ones who caused us this pain. They won't get away with this. Not while I still have breath in my body_.

Meanwhile, Shannon Moore's thoughts were beginning to run along the same lines. If it weren't for Angle, he might be the new Cruiserweight Champion. If not for that vicious shot into the locker he had had to endure at the hands of Angle, he may have been able to defeat Billy Kidman for that title. Now, he may never get the chance to know if he was good enough to be Cruiserweight Champion.

The car continued onward, its occupants hardly speaking to each other despite the close bond they had formed in the past few hours. Words were beyond them at this point. Now, only emotions could adequately describe what they were feeling. And at the moment, they were feeling a mixture of revenge, betrayal, and determination. Angle and his henchmen would pay. Oh yes, they would pay dearly for their actions.


	2. Shouldering the Blame

**Chapter 2:**

Scotty woke up, groggy, as his alarm clock rang relentlessly. He rolled over sleepily and shut off the infernal machine. After momentarily gathering his thoughts, the young man recited the list he has compiled for himself the night before. Assuming he didn't run into any delays, he should have just enough time to stop by the hospital and visit his injured friend before his flight to Dallas left.

Scotty showered quickly, got dressed, and packed his bags. The constant process of packing and unpacking on a weekly basis was by far one of the most tedious parts of the job, but Scotty had been in the business long enough to view it as just another routine that one had to go through, like stretching before a match or training whenever given the opportunity.

As the young superstar made his way through the lobby of the hotel, one of the clerks there walked up to him anxiously with a letter in his hand, "Excuse me, Mr. Garland?" he asked.

Scotty nodded as the clerk handed him the envelope and said, "I was told to give you this note from the General Manager of Smackdown before you left this morning."

"Oh. Okay, thanks," Scotty said as he took the envelope from the man. Theodore Long's elaborate signature graced the front of the sealed envelope, but there were no other signs which indicated the nature of its contents.

"May I help you with some of your luggage?" the clerk interrupted Scotty's musings.

"Oh, yeah sure. Thanks," the superstar said as he handed some of his bags to the clerk. Scotty stuck the letter in his jacket pocket; he didn't have time to read it now. Once he was on the plane, he would take a look at it.

Once all of his gear was packed into the rental car, Scotty thanked the clerk, gave him a generous tip, and made his way through the early-morning Los Angeles traffic to the hospital Rikishi was being treated in.

After a quick stop at a local bakery, he made his way over to the hospital, asked where he could find his friend, and ventured into the appropriate room after a few minutes of walking. As he stepped through the doorway, Scotty spotted his friend sitting upright in his bed, poking at a plate of scrambled eggs and toast with a plastic fork.

As the young superstar entered, Rikishi looked up and a wide grin broke across his face, "Scotty! Good to see ya, man," he said tiredly.

"Yeah, same here Kish," Scotty said as he took a seat next to his friend's bed and held up the white paper bag he had brought from the bakery, "I brought you some baklava. Figured it would be better than the hospital food."

Rikishi chuckled at the mention of one of his favorite sweets, "Aw man, you didn't have to do that. Thanks, though. Maybe once my taste buds start working properly again, I'll have some."

Scotty set the bag of pastries down on the table within reaching distance. He asked, "So how'd the surgery go?"

"It went okay, I guess. I'm still kinda out of it," Rikishi attempted a laugh, but it came out as little more than a hoarse cough, "I haven't heard anything from the doctors, so I don't know how bad it is yet."

"Oh," Scotty said, thinking back to what one of the doctors had told him the previous night. He briefly considered relaying the message to his injured friend, but figured it would be better if he heard the news from a doctor. Scotty cleared his throat and continued, "Is your shoulder doing okay? I mean, can you move it all right?"

"Not really," Rikishi glanced at his injured extremity, "I definitely heard a pop last night. If it's ligaments or muscle that's involved, then I'm guessing it's pretty bad. I guess I'll find out later. As long as they keep giving me those painkillers, I don't think being hurt is gonna be that much of an issue," the big man chuckled lightly.

"Well, you know if there's anything I can do to help, I'm here for you, man," Scotty offered, "I'm the one who got you into this, after all. It's only fair that I help you get out of it."

"What do you mean by that?" Rikishi asked his friend, looking slightly puzzled.

Scotty chuckled bitterly, "I provoked Angle, that's what I mean. If it wasn't for me letting my ego get in the way of my common sense, you wouldn't be in this hospital bed. You'd still be looking at returning in two or three months instead of seven."

"Wait.....seven? Is that what they told you?" Rikishi asked, eyebrows knitted.

Scotty swore silently. He hadn't meant to say that. He admitted sullenly, "Yeah, that's what they told me last night. Sorry. I figured it'd be better if you heard it from one of the doctors instead of me."

A long silence followed as Rikishi leaned back in the hospital bed, staring off into space. After an uncomfortable silence, he muttered, "Seven months.....man......."

Scotty sighed, "Look, Kish, I'm sorry. I'm sorry any of this happened. I'm sorry for getting you into this. None of this should've happened, and I feel......I just......" he trailed off, unsure of how to finish.

The injured Rikishi turned his head to his friend and fixed the young champion with a penetrating stare, "Now listen to me, Scotty," he said in a serious tone, "I do not blame you for this, nor does anybody else. This isn't your fault. If anyone tries to tell you that it is, you have to realize that they are _wrong_, you hear me?"

Scotty met his friend's intense gaze and nodded tersely.

Rikishi continued, "Look, man, I knew what I was doing last night. I realized the risk that was involved; everyone in this business realizes the risk of being here. This is a tough job, and people get injured. It happens. It's inevitable. We might not like it, but we live with it; we move on. This injury," he glanced at his shoulder, "is temporary. I'll get over it. I don't want you to feel like you brought any of this on me, because you didn't."

"Like hell I didn't," Scotty said bitterly, "I'm sorry, Kish, but I just have a really hard time believing that I'm not the one to blame for all this. I thought about it all last night, but I just keep reaching the same conclusion."

"Listen," Rikishi's voice took on a more gentle tone, "It's your fault because you provoked Angle. It's Angle's fault because he can't get over his losses to you. It's my fault for being too close to this whole thing when I was well aware of the risks. It's Jindrak's fault for losing to you and getting Angle's temper all flared up. It's Reigns' fault for stomping on my shoulder so hard. It's Teddy Long's fault for signing that title match with you and Angle all those months ago. It's Vince McMahon's fault for hiring any of us in the first place! You see where I'm going with this, man? We could point fingers at each other all day long, but none of it will get us anywhere.

"What's done is done. My shoulder's busted up and the only thing any of us can do about it is simply wait for it to heal. You understand me, Scotty? If I'm stuck worrying about you beating yourself up over this, I'm not gonna be able to heal as fast as I could if I new you were okay with all of it."

Scotty bit his lip as his friend's words began to sink in. He was right, and the young man silently mused at how he hadn't come up with the same conclusion before, "You know what, Kish? You've got a point," Scotty admitted as his characteristic smile began to show up once again, "You've sure got a way with words, you know that?"

Rikishi chuckled in spite of himself, "Hey, whatever works, man."

Scotty laughed and checked his watch, "I'd love to stay and listen to some more of your motivational speaking, but I think it's time for me to go," the US Champion said as he stood up, "Is there anything I can send you while I'm out on the road? Some more food, maybe? A fruit basket, perhaps? Or a bouquet of flowers?"

Rikishi snorted good-naturedly, "You're too kind. Naw, I should be fine. A postcard every now and then should suffice."

"Alright, I'll send you one as soon as I get to Dallas," Scotty said as he made his way over to the door, "Take care now, Kish. I'll be praying for ya."

"Thanks," his friend responded, "Oh, and Scotty," he said as the young man stopped and turned to his friend. Rikishi continued, "I'm not gonna try to give you any advice on how to deal with Angle since you're probably going to make up your own mind about it anyway, but whatever you do decide to do, just be careful, alright? I don't want you to end up in a hospital bed, too."

Scotty nodded solemnly, "I will. Thanks, man."

Rikishi nodded, his face assuming a slight smile. Scotty returned the smile and left the hospital room, his doubts lessened and his hopes refueled. He left the building with a clear head and a new mission; no longer was he going to berate himself for causing this mishap. To do so would be to dwell in the past, and the only way to succeed in the wrestling business was to keep one's eyes firmly fixed on the future.

And in the future, Scotty envisioned Kurt Angle and his henchmen going through the same pain that they had put him and his friends through.

The US Champion arrived at the airport a few minutes late, but the plane, unsurprisingly, was running behind schedule and the young man was able to board it without too much fuss. Once everything was squared away, he took his seat by the window and watched with detached interest as the workers loaded the last bit of luggage onto the plane.

Scotty allowed his mind to wander as he considered his immediate future. If everything went well, he should arrive in Dallas around 2:00 pm, giving him the rest of the day to train and focus his energy into something productive. After that, he would figure out a plan to deal with Angle. For the moment, he was simply content with letting his best friend's words roll around in his head.

As Scotty went to fold his arms across his chest, a crinkling sound caught his attention. The young man remembered the letter he had received earlier in the day and dug it out of his jacket pocket.

Unfolding the wrinkled envelope, he opened it up and removed the slip of paper inside. On it was a simple message written in the GM's handwriting:

_To Scott Garland,_

_I am sorry to hear about what happened to your friend Rikishi at last night's Pay-per-view event. You have my sincerest sympathies, and I wish him a speedy recovery. _

_However, I would like to take this time to inform you of your next match on Smackdown. In Dallas, Texas, it will be the team of Scotty 2 Hotty and Shannon Moore taking on the team of Mark Jindrak and Luther Reigns. I wish you the best of luck, and if there is any problem with this arrangement, feel free to contact me upon reaching the arena later tonight._

_Theodore R. Long_

Scotty 2 Hotty smiled in spite of himself. Although he and Moore would be at a definite disadvantage in that match, he knew that this would be the perfect opportunity for the two of them to get some revenge.

Feeling more energized than he had been in months, Scotty leaned back in his seat as a wide grin broke across his face. He couldn't wait to get to Dallas.


	3. Tag Team Action

**Chapter 3:**

Scotty paced restlessly in the dressing room as the dull roar of the crowd permeated every nook and cranny of the building. They were really excited about the match taking place in the ring right now, but Scotty couldn't quite recall what that match was at the moment; his thoughts were elsewhere.

The US Champion sighed as he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to loosen up. He had been looking forward to his tag team match tonight for what felt like weeks, even though he had only been informed of it yesterday morning. He couldn't wait to get out there and get a piece of Reigns and Jindrak. He couldn't wait to send a message to Kurt Angle, who would undoubtedly be watching the match intently from the back.

_No, knowing Angle, he'll probably be lurking around the ring, just waiting for the opportunity to get a cheap shot on me or Moore should either of us get thrown to the outside_, Scotty reminded himself. He wanted to get to Angle. He wanted to beat him one more time to prove once and for all that he was better than the Olympic Gold Medalist.

_Patience, _Scotty focused on his breathing. He hadn't been this pumped up about a match for a long time; in fact, the last time he had remembered ever being so excited about a wrestling match was when he challenge Kurt Angle for the US Title over five months ago. The exhilaration he felt that night was beginning to resurface. It was even more overwhelming than the determination he felt two nights ago at the No Mercy event when he beat Mark Jindrak. No, that match was strictly business. Tonight it was personal.

Just then, a knock sounded on the door, and Shannon Moore poked his head in, "Hey Scotty. Mind if I come in?"

Scotty shook his head, "Not at all. Come on in."

The young cruiserweight stepped into the locker room, making sure to close the door behind him. He was dressed in his wrestling attire, and seemed just about as anxious to start the match as Scotty was. He spoke up, "You nervous about tonight?"

"No, not really. Just excited. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you seem to be pacing pretty intently. That tells me you're nervous," Moore stated simply as he opened up a bottle of water and took a sip.

Scotty just smiled and ceased his pacing self-consciously, "Sorry. I'm just so pumped up about tonight, I feel like I'm gonna have a seizure or something if I don't move around."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Moore admitted with a chuckle as he leaned up against a wall. He folded his arms across his chest and said, "You know, Long just informed the crowd about what happened to Rikishi on Sunday. They didn't like it very much, obviously. They'll definitely be behind us in the match."

"That's good to know," Scotty said distractedly. He sat down on the floor and began to stretch his legs some more, even though he had spent the past forty-five minutes doing do. Moore began to do likewise.

After a few minutes, Moore glanced over at Scotty's belongings piled up against the wall, "Hey, Scotty. Do you mind if I take a look at the belt?"

"No, go right ahead," Scotty motioned to the bag that it rested in.

Moore nodded, walked over to the stack of belongings, and removed the United States Championship from a duffel bag. He hefted it in his hands reverently, then sat down on one of the benches and stared at it for a good long time. After a few moments, Scotty went over to stand behind the young cruiserweight so he could look at the belt as well.

"It sure is beautiful," Moore breathed.

"Yeah, I know," Scotty agreed as he studied the designs worked into the gold plates of the belt, "No matter how many times I look at it, it takes my breath away every time. Sometimes I just can't believe that it's really mine."

"Yeah," Moore said with a tinge of sadness in his voice, "I can't remember the last time I've held on to a belt -- it's been years. I would give anything to be a champion just one more time," the young man concluded, reflecting on his missed opportunity at the Cruiserweight Championship at No Mercy.

"Well," Scotty said cautiously, "Maybe if we keep wrestling together, we'll get a shot at those Tag Team Belts one of these days."

Moore laughed, "Yeah, that'd be nice. I guess we'll just have to see about that one."

Scotty smirked and prepared to answer to his partner's observation, but another knock at the door interrupted him. One of the WWE staff members opened up the door and reported, "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I was instructed to tell you two that your match is up next."

"Oh, okay. Thanks a lot," Scotty said as the crew member closed the door and left. Scotty glanced at his partner, "You ready to kick some ass?"

Moore laughed, "You bet I am," he said as he stood up with the US Title still in his hands. A playful smile tugged at his mouth as he glanced at Scotty, "May I do the honors?"

Scotty laughed and held his arms up, "Sure, knock yourself out."

With the eagerness not unlike that of a child, Shannon Moore put the belt around Scotty's waist and secured the clasps in the back, making sure it fit around the champion's waist.

When the deed was done, Scotty turned to his partner and said, "Thanks. This has been your brush with greatness for today," he joked.

Moore laughed and followed the champion out the door. The two made their way through the hallways toward the stage entrance, several of the other wrestlers wishing them luck as they went along.

As the duo made their way to the entrance, they waited just behind the curtain for their cue. Scotty glanced around, expecting Angle and his henchmen to be hanging around waiting for their cue as well, but they were nowhere to be found. After a minute or two of anxious anticipation, a nearby crew member gave them a thumbs up and Scotty jogged up the steps to the stage entrance.

As his music began to play, a wide grin broke across Scotty's face; no matter how many times he went through this same process, he found it to be incredibly exhilarating each time. When the excited cheering of the crowd reached his ears, the young US Champ ran through the curtains and out onto the stage, basking in the thousands of exuberant fans all focused squarely on him.

As Scotty descended the stage and mingled with the fans like he always did, he vaguely heard ring announcer Tony Chimmel announcing the match, "Ladies and gentlemen, the following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, he is the United States Champion, Scotty......2......_Hotty_!"

Scotty tried to slap as many of the outstretched hands as he could before rolling into the ring and waving to the excited Dallas crowd. A moment or two after his music died down, Shannon Moore's music started up and the young cruiserweight made his entrance to the ring to Chimmel's announcement, "And introducing his tag team partner, from Cameron, North Carolina, Shannon......_Moore_!"

Once Moore had made it to the ring and his music died down, Scotty glanced over at his partner. When their eyes met, an unspoken feeling of understanding passed between them. Nothing was going to stop them tonight. Nothing.

As Scotty reluctantly unclasped his belt and handed it to the referee, Kurt Angle's music began to play. Expecting Reigns and Jindrak to appear, Scotty and Moore were quite surprised to see Angle himself walk out onto the stage with a microphone in his hand and an arrogant smile on his face.

_Oh, this can't be good_, Scotty thought bitterly as Angle took a few steps forward and stopped.

The Olympic Gold Medalist raised the microphone to his lips as his music died down, but his opening words were drowned out by the fans chanting "You-suck! You-suck!" over and over again. Scotty smiled and motioned for the crowd to keep it up. Moore did the same, and Angle just waited patiently for the dim to subside, a look of mild annoyance on his face.

When the crowd had finally quieted down, Angle spoke quickly before they could start up again, "I suppose you people think that's going to make me angry. Well I've got news for ya: it just so happens that nothing can spoil the good mood I'm in tonight," he took a moment to indulge in a smug grin before continuing, "As you all just heard from our General Manager, Rikishi will be out of action for a good long time due to a serious shoulder injury. Now, I'd love to be able to take credit for taking the big oaf out, but I'm afraid I have to give the honors to somebody else.

"Scotty, how does it feel to know that your friend is hurt because of you?" Angle asked the US Champ in a patronizing tone, "How does it feel to know that Rikishi, your best friend, is injured and out of commission because of what you did at No Mercy? And it _is_ your fault, Scotty; there's no denying that. All you had to do was lay down and let Mark Jindrak beat you, and we would have forgotten this whole thing happened and let you live to see another day. But no, you couldn't do that, now could you? You had to be a hero, didn't you?"

Despite Scotty's better judgment, he could feel the anger bubbling inside of him, _It wasn't my fault. He's just trying to provoke me. It wasn't my fault. He's just trying to provoke me_, Scotty chanted in his head over and over again. It did little to calm him down, though. Angle was really starting to get on his nerves, and he wasn't sure if he could control his anger any longer.

Angle, apparently noticing the US Champ's barely-controlled rage, smiled and continued, "You know, Scotty. You and I have never really gotten along. But tonight, I just wanted to wish you and Shannon Moore the best of luck in your match tonight. Really I do. You know why? Because when my guys Jindrak and Reigns are done giving you the beating you deserve, there won't be anything left of you or your title. Before this night is over, I guarantee that you will be recovering in a hospital bed just like your dear friend Rikishi."

Before Scotty could so much as blink, he was knocked face-first into the canvas by a hard shot to the back of the head. He got to his hands and knees, disoriented, but a savage kick to his spine sent him back down.

_Dammit, they must've come through the crowd_, Scotty observed as the booted foot of Luther Reigns continued to stomp away at his spine. The US Champ tried to crawl to the ropes, but the meaty hands of his opponent grabbed him by the surgically-repaired neck and hoisted him to his feet. Reigns drove his opponent into the corner and began hammering away at Scotty's torso with a never-ending flurry of rights and lefts. Scotty blocked and scanned the ring for his partner. Moore was in an equally compromising position; he, too, was being worked over in a corner by Mark Jindrak.

After a few minutes of throwing punches, Luther Reigns glanced behind him and caught Jindrak's eye. Jindrak nodded understandingly and Irish-whipped Shannon Moore out of the corner at the same time that Reigns did likewise to Scotty.

The US Champ, seeing the inevitable collision with Moore, summoned up all his strength, planted his feet, and jumped up into the air in a rolling somersault. Moore ducked and passed under Scotty's body by mere inches, then continued his forward movement to slam right into Luther Reigns.

Scotty, on the other hand, landed deftly on his shoulders and continued the somersault, rolling up onto his feet and catching a surprised Jindrak with a savage uppercut. In the blink of an eye, the tide of the match had turned as Scotty and Moore went to town on their respective opponents.

With the crowd firmly behind them, the young duo kicked and punched at their opponents relentlessly before sending them both over the top rope onto the floor below. Reigns and Jindrak stumbled around, gathering their wits and rethinking their strategy, as Scotty and Moore caught their breath in the ring. The US Champ glanced around to see where Angle had gone to, and noticed the Olympic Gold Medalist sitting next to Tazz and Michael Cole at the announce table.

As Reigns and Jindrak crawled back into the ring, the referee came over to Scotty and Moore and told them that one of them was going to have to get out of the ring. Scotty caught Moore's eye; the young cruiserweight nodded and stepped out onto the ring apron.

Scotty watched his opponents talk among themselves intently for a moment or two before Jindrak stepped out of the ring, leaving Reigns to do battle with the US Champion. Scotty sighed through his nose and cleared his mind. He was going to have to use every weapon in his arsenal if he was going to get the better of the powerful brawler. Reigns outweighed Scotty by a good seventy pounds, and the big man was certainly no stranger to fighting. This was going to be hefty challenge for the US Champ, no doubt about it.

Immediately, the two locked up, but Reigns easily threw the smaller man down to the mat. Scotty picked himself back up indignantly and went to lock up again. Once again, Reigns threw the smaller superstar down to the mat with a mere flex of his mighty muscles.

The US Champ picked himself up again and stared intently into the mocking eyes of his opponent. Reigns was so confident in his strength that he allowed himself a moment of indulgence to laugh in his opponent's face.

Scotty stood back up and walked slowly over to the big man. When he got to within an inch of his opponent's face, he stared intently into the big man's eyes, refusing to back down from his opponent. Reigns stared back for a moment, then asked in a gruff voice, "You honestly think you stand a chance, little man?"

"Maybe I do. I guess you'll just have to prove me wrong, won't you?" Scotty said defiantly.

Reigns just chuckled and swatted Scotty away from him with a wave of his arm. Scotty stumbled, allowing his opponent to assume his gloating smile once again. Then, before the big man could react, Scotty dove forward and landed a drop kick right onto Reigns' knee cap. An unhealthy _pop_ sounded as the big man went down, the smile quickly dissipating from his face.

Scotty was on him in an instant, stomping at the injured appendage and unleashing all of the veteran moves he knew to cause as much damage to his opponent's knee as he possibly could. For a while, all Reigns could do was try to crawl over to his corner to tag in Jindrak, but Scotty stayed on his opponent tenaciously, never allowing the big man the chance to rest.

After two or three minutes of this, Scotty forced Reigns into his corner and tagged in his partner. Moore quickly got into the ring and the two of them utilized the five-second time limit to double-team Reigns in the corner. Scotty put all of his weight into his kicks as he stomped on the big man's leg. When the ref counted to four, the US Champ went to the ring apron and wrapped his hand around the tag rope, catching his breath as he watched Moore continue where he left off, whittling away at the knee of the big brawler in an attempt to take him off his feet.

Scotty, however, turned his attention away from the match and stared intently at Kurt Angle, who appeared to be having a heated conversation with Tazz and Cole. Hundreds of different thoughts flew through Scotty's head as he focused on the man who was the source of most of his problems here in the WWE. Angle had been doing everything that he possibly could to make life difficult for the US Champion these past few months. How much time would go by before he finally gave up and took his business elsewhere?

After several minutes of having a hole stared through him by the current US Champion, Angle finally noticed Scotty and the intent gaze he was shooting at him. The Olympic Gold Medalist stopped what he was saying in mid-sentence and returned the glare. Scotty noticed the nearby camera man focusing in on him -- catching the emotion on his face for the home audience, no doubt -- but Scotty ignored it. All of his attention was focused solely on the man at the announce table.

After a few moments of this, Angle glanced into the ring and looked back at Scotty with an amused smile on his face. Suspicious, Scotty turned his attention back to the ring to see Mark Jindrak performing an impressive body slam on Shannon Moore. He pinned the cruiserweight, but Moore kicked out at two. How long had they been wrestling without Scotty noticing? It hadn't seemed all that long to him.

The US Champ cleared his mind and focused on the match. He couldn't allow Angle to distract him; doing so would surely result in a loss for him and his partner. No, he had to focus on the task at hand.

Scotty watched for what seemed like many minutes while Jindrak and Reigns tagged in and out, each taking turns pounding their smaller opponent to the mat. Moore would occasionally fight back and rush over to the corner for the tag, but he was always stopped before he could reach Scotty's outstretched hand.

After a while, Jindrak put Moore into a surfboard and leaned back with all his might, stretching the young cruiserweight's arms and shoulders back. The ref leaned down to Moore, asking him if he wanted to give up, but Moore shook his head in determination. He shifted his weight to get out of it, but Jindrak kept the submission moved locked into place.

Seeing his partner in a predicament, Scotty began to pound on the turnbuckle in a rhythmic pattern, allowing the crowd to clap in unison and join in on Scotty's attempts to rally behind Moore.

The young cruiserweight acknowledged the crowd's efforts to will him back into the match, and he slowly began to make his way to his feet despite Jindrak's efforts to keep him down. When both men had made it to their feet, Jindrak drew his arm back to clothesline his opponent to the ground, but Moore ducked out of the way, latched his hands around Jindrak's waist, and delivered a beautiful German suplex which threw Angle's lackey right onto the back of his head.

For a while, both men simply remained on the mat, each trying to catch his breath. The ref began the ten count, and both Moore and Jindrak crawled to their respective corners to tag in their partners.

Scotty fidgeted anxiously as Moore slowly made his way towards his outstretched hand. This was his chance to turn this match back in their favor. If only Moore would move just a bit faster.....

Then, with a desperate leap forward, Moore tagged in his partner, allowing Scotty to rush into the ring, adrenaline flowing. Luther Reigns, who had also been tagged in at about the same time, scrambled through the ropes to get into the ring, but he barely had time to stand up straight before Scotty was upon him, beating at the big man's muscular torso with all of his strength.

With a mighty yell of frustration, Reigns shoved Scotty away from him. The US Champ landed on his back, but popped right back up and went for the big man's knee once again. Reigns yelled in pain and surprise as Scotty kicked doggedly at his leg.

The US Champion connected with a flurry of kicks before bouncing off the ropes and delivering a savage chop block to the back of the big man's knee. Reigns went down, and as Scotty made his way to his feet, the crowd began to cheer uncontrollably. Scotty stood up, looking around at the crowd as he tried to figure out why they were getting so excited all of the sudden.

Then, a smile crept across his face as he turned to see Reigns laying on one side of the ring, near the ropes and motionless as he caught his breath. He was in the perfect position for The Worm, one of Scotty's finishing moves and by far a favorite move of the fans.

With an excitement that could hardly be contained, Scotty rushed over to Reigns' motionless form and bounced back and forth on his feet in an effort to get the crowd worked up. Then, he hopped to the other side of the ring in four quick steps, the crowd chanting along with each step "W! O! R! M!!"

When he reached the other side of the ring, Scotty performed his signature dance move, much to the delight of the fans. However, as he popped up to his feet to deliver the hard chop to the throat of his opponent, Jindrak rushed over from the other side of the ring and clothes-lined the US Champ.

The crowd, obviously upset that they had missed the ending of Scotty's signature move, began to cheer once again when Shannon Moore rushed over from the ring apron and tackled the interfering Mark Jindrak. Unfortunately, the referee just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time as he went down to the mat along with Moore and Jindrak.

Dazed, Scotty made his way up to his feet and leaned up against the ropes as Reigns began to stir. The US Champ motioned for the crowd that it was time for the super kick. He was so intent on ending this match, he didn't even notice that Kurt Angle had left his position at the announce table and run over to where the US Champ was preparing to finish off his opponent.

As Scotty focused firmly on Luther Reigns, he was suddenly grabbed roughly by the neck and driven headfirst into the nearest turnbuckle. The US Champ's head bounced back, and as his blurred vision registered the face of his enemy so close by, his energy was suddenly replenished by a surge of anger.

As Angle went to smash Scotty's head into the turnbuckle again, the US Champ held onto the ropes to prevent Angle's attempt. Then, mustering up all his strength, the young champion drew back his right hand and punched Angle so hard on the jaw that the Olympic Gold Medalist was sent straight to the floor.

But Scotty wasn't done yet. As Angle stumbled to his feet, Scotty launched himself over the top rope in a suicide dive right onto Kurt Angle. The two men crashed to the mat as the crowd cheered ecstatically.

Meanwhile, Jindrak and Moore continued to grapple in the ring, but that was quickly ended when Luther Reigns delivered a shot to the kidneys of his opponent. Moore recoiled in pain, but turned around almost immediately and drove his knee straight into the big man's gut. Reigns stumbled backwards, his lungs empty, as Moore turned back to Jindrak. However the numbers were just too much. Before Moore could turn around completely, he was clothes-lined savagely by Jindrak and sent to the mat. Not wasting an instant, Jindrak dragged Moore to his feet, hooked the smaller man's arm around his shoulder, and delivered his finisher. As Jindrak lifted his opponent off of the ground, he turned quickly and drove Moore down to the mat right on the back of his head.

With the ref still down and Moore temporarily out of commission, Jindrak quickly left the ring and grabbed the US Title from where one of the stage hands was holding on to it at the announce station. The young superstar gained a malicious glint in his eye as he held the belt in his hands.

On the other side of the ring, Scotty continued to pound on a dazed Kurt Angle as the crowd suddenly became more frantic. Absorbed in the act of inflicting punishment on his mortal enemy, Scotty paid them no mind. As he dragged Angle up off the ground and prepared to throw him into the steel steps, he was suddenly and viciously struck on the back of the head with the US Title by Mark Jindrak.

The young man collapsed on the outside as stars began to block his vision and his head began to feel heavy. His ears felt as though they were stuffed with cotton, for the sound of the crowd suddenly became very distant.

Seeing that the referee was beginning to get his feet, Jindrak slid the US Title under the ring so the official would not see it. Angle grinned wickedly as he landed a few cheap shots on a dazed Scotty before rolling him back into the ring right into the eager hands of Luther Reigns.

Still dazed from being hit with his own title belt, Scotty had barely enough time to register the fact that he was back in the ring before Reigns seized his head in his beefy arms and performed his finishing move on the US Champion, a reverse spinning neck breaker known as the Roll of the Dice.

The next few minutes were a complete blur of noises and lights to Scotty, but he was able to barely make out a large weight being placed on his chest and the ref counting to three. He tried to kick out, but the bell had already sounded; he had lost the match for his team.

It was several minutes later -- or at least, it _felt_ like several minutes -- before Scotty was resurrected by his partner, who also appeared to be a little worse for wear. Scotty slowly sat up and looked around as his eyes began to make sense of everything around him. He glanced up the stage and saw a grinning Angle raising the hands of his henchmen as the three of them stood facing Scotty and Moore. At that moment, all Scotty could do was stare at the threesome; he was simply too tired and banged up to feel angry right now.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, here are your winners, Luther Reigns and Mark......_Jindrak_!" the ring announcer told the disappointed crowd.

As the three of them eventually turned away from the ring and walked up the stage to the back, Scotty just sat in the ring, his shoulders slumped and his spirits crushed. Moore extended his hand, and Scotty gratefully took it and allowed the young cruiserweight to pull him to his feet.

The US Champ could only look his partner in the eye and say mildly, "Sorry."

Moore just shook his head and patted his partner on the shoulder, "Don't worry about it. Can't win 'em all."

As the two beaten superstars left the ring and made their way to the back, the crowd began to cheer, showing the two defeated men the ultimate sign of respect. Scotty couldn't help but smile slightly at the gesture; no matter what happened, he knew that the crowd would always be there for him when he needed them. He waved and touched all the outstretched hands he could as he made his way up the ramp, taking his time to thank each and every one of them as he passed by.

They believed in him. The least he could do is believe in himself.

Later that night, after Scotty had showered up and gotten his gear packed up, he couldn't help but feel humbled by the kindness exhibited by the fans. Week in and week out, they supported him by cheering his very presence. They sent him letters and e-mails congratulating him on his successful title reign, his long career, and just about every other aspect of his life. Very few of them actually _knew_ him, but they still treated him with the same respect they would treat a close friend.

Scotty couldn't resist the urge to chuckle. All of the sudden, the very thought of him being disappointed about losing a match seemed absolutely ludicrous. He was loved all around the world by thousands of people; compared to that, what was one loss? It was no more than a single drop of water trying to extinguish a volcano, that's what it was.

With an insatiable smile dominating his face, Scotty walked around the backstage area until he spotted a glum-looking Shannon Moore carrying his belongings out to the parking lot, "Hey Shannon!" Scotty called out cheerfully to the young man.

Moore turned around, a look of puzzlement on his face as he noticed the goofy grin on the US Champion's face, "Well, you certainly seem to be in a good mood all of the sudden. What gives?"

"Oh nothing, just some old friends putting things in perspective. Listen, do you wanna do something tonight? Dallas has some pretty good night clubs, you know," Scotty offered good-naturedly.

Shannon stared at his companion for a second, not entirely sure what to make of his newfound good humor. After a moment or two, Scotty's infectious smile began to manifest itself onto the young cruiserweight's face as he shrugged, "Sure. Sounds like fun."

"Cool. I'll be out in a second; I've just gotta get my stuff," Scotty said as he jogged back to the locker room.

Angle and his henchmen may have beaten him in the ring, but there was no way they were going to defeat him outside of it. Whatever happened in the ring was strictly business, no matter how personal it may seem at times. The important thing that many of the superstars often forgot is that life outside the business doesn't necessarily have to reflect life inside it. Scotty was out to prove that.

Nobody could crush the US Champion's spirit. Not Angle, not anyone else in the back, not even himself. Tonight, he simply wanted to enjoy life's little pleasures for what they were worth.


	4. A Day of Training

**Chapter 4:**

Scotty grit his teeth in concentration as he pushed the heavy barbell high into the air, breathing rhythmically as every muscle in his arm and chest strained to maintain the tremendous weight in the air. Ignoring his protesting muscles, the young superstar lowered the weights just so he could lift them up once again with the same fervor.

As he counted the reps silently in his head, he kept reminding himself that proper training was essential in order to survive in this business. Such was a simple fact of life that every single superstar lived by; to remain complacent would severely compromise their overall health and preparedness. But for the US Champion, he had a little extra incentive to continue with his strict routine.

As his arms screamed for a break, the young man focused on his breathing and forced himself to lift the barbell three more times in an effort to push his limits as far as they could possibly go. With much effort, he managed to accomplish the task.

With a triumphant _clank_, the heavy weights slid into their appropriate slot as Scotty sat upright with a grunt. Grabbing a towel, the young superstar wiped off his sweaty brow as he made his way over to the water fountain and took a drink. Now that the strength training was done and over with, he could focus on the more important part of his routine: cardiovascular exercises. Some of the larger guys chose to spend their time making their muscles bigger and stronger, but Scotty, being a small guy naturally, focused more on his greatest attribute -- his speed and agility. After all, it was impossible to hurt someone when you couldn't catch them. Cardio was much more important, in his opinion.

As he stood upright from the fountain, he felt someone tap his shoulder. Scotty turned around to see Johnny Stamboli dabbing his sweaty forehead with a towel. He pointed a thumb back at the weight-lifting station which Scotty had just vacated and said, "You know you shouldn't be lifting wit'out a spotter. You want me to spot ya?"

He was right, of course. Scotty answered, "No, I just finished up, actually. Thanks anyway."

Johnny shrugged and filled up a cup from the water fountain. As he did so, he looked at the US Champion and said, "Hey man, you know that if you ever need any help dealing wit' Angle and his goons, the FBI has got your back. Just say the word and we'll take care of business _Sicilian-style_," he finished with a trace of innuendo.

Scotty smiled and responded, "Thanks, man. I appreciate the offer, but I'd rather not get anyone else involved with my affairs if I can avoid it."

Johnny stood up and looked at the young man up and down, "Yeah, I can respect dat. Okay then, good luck wit' dat," he said and prepared to walk off. He went a few steps, then stopped and turned back around slowly. When he spoke, it was in a hushed tone, "Look, it may seem like you're on your own here, but I just wanted to let you know dat a lot of the guys in the back are behind ya all the way. A whole lot of us. It takes guts to stand up to Angle, and da fact that you're standing up to him _and_ his guys Reigns and Jindrak, well, it's impressive, man. A lot of the guys are beginning to really respect you for dat. Whatever happens, we've got your back, capisce?"

Touched, Scotty blinked and said, "Yeah, thanks. That means a lot to me."

"Eh, don't mention it," Johnny said in his trademark Italian accent, "We're all just one big happy family here, and family looks out for each udder. Remember dat."

"I will," Scotty nodded as Johnny Stamboli walked off to continue his own training exercises.

The US Champion situated himself on a Stairmaster, starting out slow at first. As he trained, his thoughts began to form all on their own. It was true that he had considered himself to be fighting -- more or less -- on his own before today. Aside from Shannon Moore, he was always left with the impression that he was trying to take on Angle and his henchmen all by himself. Johnny Stamboli's words were both surprising and appreciated at the same time. It was always just a perk of the business that those with belts were often targeted and shunned from the other wrestlers -- mostly because they brought trouble with them wherever they went -- and Scotty was no exception to this trend.

Scotty had gotten used to being alone quite well in the months since winning the US Title; ever since he had received the belt, everyone in the back had been trying to beat him to get a shot at the gold. Unlike the WWE Championship -- which was reserved for only the biggest names on Smackdown -- or the Cruiserweight Title -- which was restricted to the smaller guys -- the US Title could be held by just about anyone. As such, Scotty had to worry about practically the entire roster coming after him, which is what made him so shocked and humbled to know that he actually had friends and supporters who valued the bravery he exhibited towards Angle rather than the gold strap he wore.

With a confident smile firmly affixed to his face, the young superstar cranked up the settings on the Stairmaster and began to push his limits like they had never been pushed before. He trained much longer than usual that day, rejuvenated as he was by the respect granted to him by his peers.

By the time the US Champion left the gym, the sun had already begun to set, signifying that Scotty had spent the entire day training. Strangely enough, though, he hardly felt tired. In fact, he felt better than he had in months, years even. The young man decided to grab a quick bite to eat at a Subway down the street from the gym he had been training in.

As the young superstar took a window seat with his sandwich, he became aware of the curious glances that were shot his way. He smiled in between bites, knowing what was to follow.

After a few minutes, a teenage boy with red hair approached the table cautiously and asked, "Excuse me, um, I don't mean to bother you, but.....are you Scotty 2 Hotty? From the WWE?"

Scotty wiped his mouth off and fixed the young man with a good-natured smile, "The one and only," he said with a wink.

The fan blinked twice, then broke into a pleased grin and said excitedly, "Wow, I never thought I'd see you here! Can I have your autograph?"

"You bet," Scotty replied as he produced a black marker from his back pocket which he always carried around for moments such as this, "You want me to sign your forehead or something?"

The red-haired kid smiled, realizing that he didn't have paper with him. Then a thought struck him, "Um, could you sign my shirt?"

"Of course," Scotty said, noticing that the teen was wearing a wrestling T-shirt. After a quick autograph, it was only a matter of time before other people in the restaurant came up requesting his signature. Scotty didn't mind a bit as he continued to sign shirts, sandwich wrappers, and napkins while sneaking in bites of his sandwich when he could. After the fans had been satisfied, Scotty finished his dinner, waved at the satisfied wrestling fans still inside, and walked out into the warm night air.

As he left the restaurant, he spotted the red-haired fan standing off to one side of the building with a group of his friends, showing off his autographed shirt. As soon as he spotted the superstar leaving the restaurant, the youth smiled and pointed. Scotty walked over to the group and introduced himself.

The group was excited about meeting him, of course, and they all had many questions to ask the young superstar. Always one to please the fans, Scotty chatted with them for a good long time about many different things.

As the sun eventually set completely and the moon began to show itself, Scotty announced that he should probably head back to his hotel. The group of teenagers bid him farewell, and as Scotty prepared to part with his new friends, the red-headed young man caught his attention and said in a sincere voice, "Look, Mr. Garland, um......I'm not really sure how to say this, but I just wanted to say 'thank you' for everything that you do. I mean, I know you must have a really tough career, and we all really appreciate the job you're doing. Thanks," he finished as his friends all voiced their agreement.

Overcome with emotion, Scotty grinned slightly and said, "Think nothing of it. There's not a thing in the world I would rather be doing," and he meant it.

The US Champ reluctantly left the group and headed back to his hotel, a smile on his face the entire way.

As soon as he got back to his hotel room and showered up, Scotty dug out his laptop and went to check his e-mail. He had two new messages: one from Shannon Moore and one from Theodore Long. The young superstar opened up Moore's message first and read its contents:

_ Dear Scotty,_

_I just got off the phone with Teddy Long about what happened last night on Smackdown. I requested a match with Mark Jindrak for Survivor Series, and I got it! I wasn't really expecting Long to agree to it so readily, but I'm glad he did. After what Jindrak did to us in our match last night, I'm going to make sure to return the favor. _

_Long said he was going to start advertising our match next week on Smackdown. I don't know if Jindrak knows about it yet, but he will soon enough!_

_So how's your training going? Maybe when we get to St. Louis for the next show, we can train together. Heck, any routine that's good enough for the US Champion has got to work for me!_

_Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that last night at the clubs was really fun. Maybe next time we can bring some more of the guys. I was talking with Nunzio today and he told me about how he and Johnny were supportive of what we were doing to oppose Angle. I think we can count on them, but you might want to talk to them yourself about it._

_Alright, hope you have a nice night. Bye._

_-Shannon_

Scotty leaned back and smiled. Shannon Moore certainly had guts, that's for sure. He knew the eager young cruiserweight was brave, but challenging Mark Jindrak to a match at Survivor Series was brash even for him. Scotty himself didn't even have a choice to face Jindrak at No Mercy; Angle convinced Teddy Long to sign the match regardless of the US Champion's wishes.

Curious, Scotty opened up the letter from Theodore Long and read it:

_ Mr. Garland,_

_Despite your unfortunate loss on Smackdown, I still find myself impressed with your performance in the ring week in and week out. However, I have also found myself impressed with one Billy Kidman, the current Cruiserweight Champion._

_Therefore, I have decided to sign a match for next week's Smackdown: Scotty 2 Hotty vs. Billy Kidman, Champion vs. Champion. Neither belt will be on the line, of course, but if the reaction from the fans is positive enough, I may just consider making a title vs. title match between you and Kidman at Survivor Series._

_As always, your input on this idea is appreciated. Keep in mind that there is a good chance you will end up defending your title at Survivor Series, although I haven't quite decided who it will be against at this point in time._

_I hope to see you in St. Louis on Monday. Enjoy your flight._

_-Theodore R. Long_

The US Champion sighed through his nose and put his hands behind his head. Kidman was a gifted athlete and a tough opponent, and he had been dominating the cruiserweight division for many months now. Scotty knew that this was not going to be a cakewalk by any means, but he was determined to meet the challenge head-on.

As the young superstar put away his laptop, a slow smile crept across his face as he reflected upon the day's activities. No matter what was thrown his way, he could overcome all of it as long as he had the support of his fellow wrestlers and the fans.

Before going to bed, Scotty crept over to a duffel bag sitting on the floor and drew forth the US Title. He sat on the end of his hotel bed with the precious title resting on his lap as he simply appreciated its presence for several minutes.

_No matter what happens, I can persevere as long as I'm not alone_, Scotty reflected as he ran a finger over the nameplate of the championship, _This belt is just a material thing; I can live without it if need be. It's the _title_ that matters. United States Champion. Regardless of whether I have this belt or not, the fact that I held onto this title at all will never change._

With a sense of pride the likes of which he had never felt before, Scotty 2 Hotty gently placed the title belt back into the duffel back and went to sleep with the enticing prospect of another day of training running through his mind.


	5. Champion vs Champion

**Chapter 5:**

Scotty stood backstage with a million butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. He stretched his arms nervously as the US Title strapped around his waist reflected the dim lighting of the control stations and the inquisitive faces of the workers milling about. The young superstar had never recalled being so nervous before. What was causing him to feel so apprehensive now?

As a nearby stagehand signified that the commercial break would end in approximately one minute, Scotty took a deep breath and paced back and forth nervously. The Champion vs. Champion match was less than a minute away, and he just knew that Angle was going to get involved. Interference by the Olympic Gold Medalist was almost guaranteed; Scotty reminded himself that he would just have to be expecting it. After what had happened last week, he'd be damned if he was going to let Angle cost him yet another match.

Movement caught the young superstar's eye, and he looked up from his pacing. An arrogant Billy Kidman strolled confidently through the hallway to stand near his nervous opponent, the Cruiserweight Title gleaming around his waist. Kidman smirked and asked in a patronizing tone, "What's the matter, Scotty? Nervous about tonight?"

Scotty just glared at him and continued to stretch his arms. Kidman laughed mockingly, "That was a silly question, wasn't it? I mean, why _wouldn't_ you be nervous about facing me? I'm only the best cruiserweight on Smackdown. And what are you? Just some scrawny, no-talent little SOB who lucked out big time against Angle."

Scotty stopped his pacing and turned to Kidman, anger flickering in his eyes. He said in a threatening voice, "What did Angle tell you? He convinced you to soften me up, didn't he? Well, I've got news for ya, Billy. It's gonna take a whole heck of a lot more than some cocky little punk like you to take me out."

Kidman held up his hands defensively, "Now, now, who said anything about Angle? Whatever I do in that ring tonight, I'm doing it for _me_. I mean, Angle's been doing a good enough job of humiliating you as it is; he certainly doesn't need my help to do it."

Scotty was about to unleash a venom-filled retort, but a nearby stagehand interrupted, "We're back in five.....four..... three.....two.....one!"

With a smug grin firmly affixed to his face, Kidman walked up the stairs to the ring entrance -- making sure to bump Scotty in the shoulder as he did so -- and walked out onto the stage just as his music played. The St. Louis crowd immediately unleashed a healthy round of 'boos' upon the confident young superstar. After a few tense seconds, Scotty's music played; the US Champion cleared his mind, summoned up his trademark smile, and ran out onto the stage amid a chorus of cheers.

Scotty interacted with all the fans as he made his way down to the ring to the sound of Tony Chimmel's announcement, "And his opponent: he is the United States Champion.....Scotty......2....._Hotty_!"

After Scotty had gotten into the ring and the two belts had been handed to a member of the ring crew, the referee called for the bell. The two men simply circled each other for a few moments, staring each other down.

_Just who does this guy think he is?_ Scotty thought angrily as he eyed the smug superstar in the ring with him, _What the hell gives him the right to criticize my career? It wouldn't surprise me a bit if Angle just sent him out here to get me angry. No, I can't let my temper take over. I've got to focus_, the young superstar said to himself as he steadied his breathing and began to calm down.

The two opponents locked up, and Kidman immediately turned it into a headlock. Scotty tried to squirm out of it, but Kidman's grasp didn't loosen. The US Champ aimed a few good shots into the ribs of his opponent, then shot him into the ropes. Kidman rebounded and went for a cross-body, but Scotty ducked out of the way, sending the Cruiserweight Champion belly-flopping onto the empty mat.

Clutching his stomach, Kidman got up and was met by a stiff kick to the gut by Scotty. The US Champ bounced off the ropes and hit Kidman with a running forearm to the head. His opponent was down, but not out. Kidman got to his feet almost instantly, but was met with a dropkick to the chest which sent him flying to the outside.

As the fans began to cheer for Scotty, Kidman picked himself up on the outside and shook his head in an effort to clear it. He eyed his opponent shrewdly; Scotty just stood in the ring with his hands on his knees, waiting for the Cruiserweight Champ to get back in the match.

Kidman slowly hopped up on the ring apron, and as he climbed through the ropes, Scotty sprinted towards him and hit him with a dropkick that sent him back outside the ring. This time, the US Champ pursued and met his opponent on the outside.

Scotty dragged Kidman to his feet and threw him headfirst into the security wall, much to the delight of the fans sitting in the front row. The US Champ picked his opponent up and tossed him back into the ring, not wanting to waste a single moment.

As Scotty slid into the ring and got to his feet, Kidman hit him with an axe-handle to the back of the head. Dazed, Scotty tried to get to his hands and knees, but his opponent just stomped on him relentlessly. After a few moments, the ref pulled the Cruiserweight Champ away and Scotty was able to get to his feet with a little help from the ropes.

No sooner was Scotty standing upright when Kidman was upon him with a flurry of rights and lefts. The US Champ blocked most of them, but several connected with his torso, knocking the breath out of him. Kidman shot him to the corner and followed with a running clothesline.

Scotty slumped to the mat, his neck throbbing from the vicious clothesline. Ever the opportunist, Kidman stomped away at his opponent's exposed chest for a few seconds before situating his boot against the US Champ's throat and pressing down hard. Scotty could only lay there gasping for air while the referee counted to four.

Kidman stepped off a second before getting disqualified and held his hands up innocently while the ref chewed him out. Gritting his teeth, Scotty pulled himself to his feet and kicked Kidman in the stomach as he made his way over to pound on Scotty some more. The US Champ followed up with a flurry of punches, followed by a standing dropkick which sent Kidman to the other corner. Kidman lay on the mat for a second, dazed. He went to sit up, but Scotty drop-kicked him in the head just as he did so.

Scotty covered the Cruiserweight Champ, but only got a two-count from the ref. Taking a deep breath, Scotty picked his opponent off the mat, shot him into the ropes, and knocked him down with a shoulder block. The US Champ then connected with two leg drops and an elbow, followed by another quick two-count.

As Scotty got up from the pin, the crowd suddenly lit up with a volley of 'boos'. The US Champ glanced around him, and sure enough, there was Kurt Angle strolling down the stage entrance with a bemused smile on his face. Scotty just stood there and glared at the man, daring him to interfere. Angle made his way to the ring apron, but just stood there and held his hands up defensively as the referee stuck his head through the ropes and demanded to know what the Olympic Gold Medalist was doing here.

As soon as the referee took his attention away from the match, Kidman snuck up behind his opponent and hit him with a low blow. Scotty's legs went numb as he fell to the mat in excruciating pain, _Damnit! Pay attention, Scotty!_ he berated himself through the acute pain in his groin.

Kidman proceeded to stomp on his opponent as soon as the ref turned away from Angle, oblivious to the low blow. The Cruiserweight Champ picked his opponent up off the mat, shot him into the ropes, and connected with a springboard drop kick right to Scotty's face. The US Champ fell over, dazed. Kidman covered him, but he managed to kick out at two.

Scotty tried to catch his breath, but he was only allowed a second or two before Kidman put him in a quick ankle lock. Caught off guard, Scotty tried to get to his feet, but Kidman kept him grounded. The US Champ bit his lip in an effort to block out the lancing pain, but it was doing no good. His ankle felt like it was being ripped apart. He had to get out of this submission _now_.

Glancing around desperately, Scotty spotted the ropes just a few feet away. The young superstar clawed his way over to the ropes, inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter. The crowd began to chant his name in an effort to urge him on, "Scot-_ty!_......Scot-_ty!_.....Scot-_ty_!"

He was so close, but his ankle was being twisted in an unnatural direction. The pain was getting unbearable. He was going to black out if he didn't reach the ropes. If only he could reach those damn ropes; he was so close. Four inches......three inches.....two inches.....one inch.....half an inch.....almost there....._got it_!

As Scotty grabbed onto the bottom rope for dear life, Kidman tightened the hold, trying to inflict as much damage as he could while the ref counted. Once the referee reached four, Kidman broke the hold and stood upright. The ref immediately got in his face for not breaking the hold sooner, giving Angle the perfect opportunity to run up and choke Scotty on the bottom rope.

The fans immediately reacted to the cheap shot taken by Angle, but the ref never saw the interference. Angle backed off, acting as though he hadn't done a thing. Scotty dragged himself away from the ropes, his throat sore, his groin still hurting, and his ankle throbbing. He felt horrible all over, but he had to keep fighting. It would be a cold day in hell before Angle cost him another match. It just wasn't going to happen. Not tonight.

Scotty dragged himself to his feet, acting as though he was much more injured than he really was in order to lure Kidman in; it worked. Kidman approached the US Champ with a smug grin on his face, confident that the match was all but over. However, as he got close, he was met with a stiff right hand by Scotty. The US Champion pounded on Kidman's face and torso as the crowd got behind him.

Bouncing off the ropes, Scotty leveled his opponent with a forearm to the head. Kidman landed on his back, but picked himself right back up. Scotty hit him with a clothesline; again, Kidman got up, a bit more slowly this time. Scotty kicked him in the gut with his good leg, then hooked him into a suplex and snapped him over his head to the mat below. Kidman crashed to the ground and sat back up, a hand on the small of his back and a pained expression on his face.

Scotty hobbled to his feet and drop-kicked Kidman in the head just as the Cruiserweight Champ got to his hands and knees. Scotty covered his opponent, but only got another two-count.

Not in any particular hurry, Scotty picked his opponent up and shot him to the corner, where he proceeded to stomp on Kidman's torso with his good leg. Kidman slumped down to the mat, beaten and exhausted.

The US Champ grabbed his opponent's head in an effort to drag him up, but Kidman unexpectedly raked him in the eyes. Scotty stumbled backwards, momentarily blinded, as Kidman whacked him with a running clothesline which sent the US Champ through the ropes and out onto the floor below.

Scotty tumbled to the outside, knowing that Angle would be trying to get involved in the match. He picked himself up as quickly as he could, and sure enough, there was Angle standing just a few feet from him, a look of disappointment on his face for missing out on the chance to slip in a cheap shot or two.

Scotty just glared at his enemy, daring him to do something, to interfere. Angle just glared back, a look of hatred in his otherwise placid blue eyes. After a moment or two of inactivity, Scotty decided that Angle wasn't going to do anything, and he turned back towards the ring. As he did so, he was met by a baseball slide to the chest by Kidman. Scotty tumbled backwards and smacked into the guard rail spine-first.

Angle backed off a few feet as Kidman slid outside the ring and chopped the US Champion in the chest a few times just for good measure. He grabbed Scotty by the arm and went to slingshot him into the ring post, but Scotty reversed it and sent Kidman running shoulder-first into the unforgiving steel post instead. Kidman stumbled backwards, stunned and in pain, and Scotty caught him in the back of the head with a perfectly-placed super kick. Kidman crumpled to the floor like a rag doll.

Scotty rolled back into the ring, clutching his throbbing ankle, as the ref began the ten-count. Kidman wasn't moving; the super kick to his head was enough to knock him out for good. The ref continued to count as a slow smile crept across Scotty's face. A win by count-out wasn't quite as honorable as a win by pinfall or submission, but it was a victory nonetheless.

Furious, Angle stormed over to a dazed Kidman and screamed at him to get his ass back in the ring and finish the job. Kidman's head rolled from side to side, but he was clearly too disoriented to make sense of what was going on around him. By this time, the ref had reached eight. There was no way Kidman was going to get back in the ring on time.

With a look of barely-contained frustration, Kurt Angle picked Kidman up off the ground and practically threw him back in the ring just as the ref reached nine. The referee immediately slid out of the ring and got in Angle's face. Scotty couldn't make out what they were saying from his position, but after a few minutes of arguing, the referee motioned to the back with a great flourish and yelled, "Get out!" loud enough for half the arena to hear. The fans erupted as Angle protested vehemently. The ref just pushed a distressed Kurt Angle away from the ring as the fans began to chant, "Na na na-na.......na na na-na.......hey-hey-hey......._goodbye_!" over and over again.

Scotty got to his feet uneasily and smiled as Angle argued with the ref on the entrance ramp. He barely had time to blink before the big beefy arm of Luther Reigns hammered him in the back of the head. Scotty fell forward onto the mat, stars dancing in front of his eyes, _Oh shit, did he come from the crowd _again_? Damnit!_ his mind registered groggily as he tried to get to his feet.

Before Scotty could even begin to defend himself, the mighty Luther Reigns stuck the smaller man's head under his arm and spun to the mat violently, delivering his patented 'Roll of the Dice' finisher. Scotty's head his the mat as the lights of the arena danced in his vision.

Not intending to let the ref catch him, Luther slid out of the ring, jumped over the barrier, and ran back through the crowd from which he came. Meanwhile, Kurt Angle, upon seeing his plan come to fruition, gave up his argument with the ref and headed up the entrance ramp. The referee quickly turned back to the match at hand and slid into the ring.

By this time, Kidman had caught his second wind and had managed to climb to the top rope unsteadily. Ignoring the distressed yells of the fans, the smug Cruiserweight Champion delivered his unique finisher, the Shooting Star Press. He landed right on top of the comatose US Champ, knocking every ounce of oxygen out of his opponent's lungs and stealing an easy victory.

Scotty 2 Hotty groaned and sat upright, his mind not quite registering what was happening. His entire body was sore, and he had a vague notion that he was supposed to be in a match at the moment. Slowly, groggily, his eyes began to work again. He looked around the ring, hoping to catch a glimpse of his opponent, but he was nowhere to be found. Then his ears began to work again, and he vaguely registered the fact that Kidman's music was playing. Wait......why was Kidman's music playing?

Scotty looked over to the ring entrance and saw the Cruiserweight Champion celebrating his victory with a very pleased Kurt Angle. Both men had smug grins on their faces; Scotty's stomach turned at the sight.

As the duo made their way backstage, something inside Scotty's mind snapped; Kurt Angle had inured his best friend, cost another one of his friends a shot at that Cruiserweight gold, and had caused him to lose two matches -- all in the span of less than three weeks! Enough was enough. It was time to end this.

Not even bothering to stop and mingle with the fans as he usually did, Scotty dragged his sore, aching body out of the ring and half-ran, half-limped to the backstage area, holding his sore neck all along the way. He completely ignored everyone he passed, including the other superstars who tried to talk to him or reassure him. Nothing interrupted him in his single-minded progress.

After what felt like an unbearably long time, Scotty came upon Theodore Long's office. Without even bothering to knock, he shoved the door opened and stormed into the General Manager's office. Long was on the phone, but upon seeing the look in the US Champion's eyes, he muttered a quick farewell and hung up.

"I. Want. Angle," Scotty growled to the shorter man, barely able to control his rage.

Long just held up his hands in an attempt to placate the enraged young man, "Now just calm down, playah --"

"Calm down?! Calm down?! Did you see what just happened to me out there?!" Scotty yelled, unable to control his anger any longer, "I won't stand for this any more! I want Angle at Survivor Series! I want to settle this once and for all!"

"Now hold on a minute, playah. You don't make the matches around here; I do," Theodore Long reminded the US Champion sternly, "Now I can understand your situation, but you must remember, Scotty: you are a professional, and you _must_ act like one at all times, ya feel me?"

Scotty clenched his fists together and forced himself to calm down. Teddy was right. Now was not the time to lose his temper, especially when he was trying to request a match. No, he certainly didn't want to bite the hand that fed him. The US Champion continued in a much more civil tone, "Mr. Long, surely you have seen what Kurt Angle has been doing to me and the rest of the locker room for the past few months now. We can't allow him to just do whatever he pleases. Please, Mr. Long, give me Kurt Angle at Survivor Series."

"I'm afraid I just can't do that, playah," Long explained, "You see, I have just been informed that Kurt Angle has been drafted to be a part of JBL's team at Survivor Series. So as much as I'd like to give you Angle, I'm afraid I just can't do that, playah. However, there is another man that had also been causing you problems these past few weeks; a man that you have never faced before in a 1-on-1 match-up. Ya feel me?"

Scotty knitted his brow in confusion. Who the heck was Long talking about? Angle had been a thorn in his side for months now; who else could possibly compare to the meddlesome Olympic Gold Medalist? Then it struck him, "Luther Reigns," he snarled.

"Ballee-_dat_," Long said, "Now since neither you nor Luther seems to be occupied at Survivor Series, I decided to sign a match between the two of you. At Survivor Series, it will be Scotty 2 Hotty defending the United States Championship against Luther Reigns. Ya feel me?"

A slow smile spread across Scotty's face. This would do. This would do just nicely, "I feel ya, Mr. Long. A title defense against Luther at Survivor Series? Yeah, I don't have a problem with that," Scotty extended his hand, which was promptly shaken by Mr. Long.

"You be careful now, playah; don't go doing anything brash before the Pay-per-view. I want you in tip-top shape for your title defense," Long reminded the young champion.

"Don't worry. I wouldn't miss this match for the world," Scotty said as he turned to walk out the door. The US Champion walked past a filming cameraman he hadn't even noticed until now and made his way to the locker room.

For years, he had put his heart and soul into this business. He had sacrificed more than he could ever recall, and had devoted countless hours of dedication and hard work into getting to where he was with the business. He had busted his ass for years to get a shot at that United States Championship, and he had earned that title. He had earned every single minute of every single day of every single month that he held on to it. And the disrespect exhibited to him by Angle and his henchmen was beyond forgivable.

Come Survivor Series, he was going to make sure he proved to the world that his success was no fluke. He had earned every bit of it, and nothing was going to stop him from proving that once and for all.

Nothing.


	6. Survivor Series

**Chapter 6:**

Survivor Series.

Scotty 2 Hotty continued to tape up his wrists as he sat in the locker room at the second-oldest Pay-per-view event in WWE history. Every now and then, the crowd would erupt in a raucous cheer for something that was happening in the ring. The Cincinnati crowd was always a boisterous one, and they seemed to be enjoying the event thus far.

Scotty glanced over at the dry-erase board propped up near the doorway of the locker room for perhaps the hundredth time that night. The schedule of matches and interviews were arranged in chronological order on the board, with approximate times scribbled off to the side so the organizers of the event could estimate how much time they had to work with in order to meet the eleven o'clock deadline. As the night progressed, the segments were crossed off as they happened by a stagehand. Eager anticipation began to build up in Scotty's gut. His match -- the fifth one of the night -- was up next. He could hardly wait.

Once he had finished his task and packed the tape back into his duffel bag, he adjusted the belt around his waist and went over to get a closer look at the schedule.

Batista had defended his Intercontinental Title against Matt Hardy in the first match, followed by a successful defense of the Women's Title by Victoria. After that had been Shannon Moore's match with Mark Jindrak; unfortunately, Jindrak had won, and Moore was currently getting his ankle looked at by the medics. Scotty had just come back from visiting his friend, and the news was good overall: just a minor sprain that would heal up in about two or three weeks. Shannon deserved a vacation anyway.

The current match was the high-flying duo of Rey Mysterio and Rob Van Dam challenging the Dudleys for the WWE Tag Team Titles. The young superstar left the locker room and headed over to a nearby TV station to watch the action. The Dudleys had been unstoppable in the tag-team division for the past few months, but many believed that RVD and Mysterio had what it takes to beat the most decorated tag team in WWE history and claim the title for themselves.

As Scotty tried to focus on the exciting match, he couldn't help but let his mind wander back to everything that had led up to his upcoming encounter with Luther Reigns. Somehow, he had gotten himself involved in some very bad company in the form of Angle, Reigns, and Jindrak. How had this all started? Had this entire thing been caused by the US Title? Did the bad blood begin to form when Scotty had pinned the Olympic Gold Medalist all those months ago to win the coveted belt? Or did it start all those years ago when Scotty and Rikishi had defeated Angle and Reigns in a tag-team match? The timeline was just too expansive to comprehend. Finding the foundation of this hatred would do no good anyway; what mattered was where it went from here, where it took them all.

Scotty rubbed the belt unconsciously as the magnitude of this night began to sink in. He had won the belt an entire six months ago. Already, that put him at a disadvantage, since the average title reign fell in the ballpark of about four and a half months; anything longer was generally considered to be extremely rare, especially for the US Title and IC Title, which could he won and held by virtually anyone. Add in the fact that his opponent had been trained by Angle -- one of the best in the business -- plus the fact that Reigns would be focused more on hurting his opponent rather than actually beating him, plus the fact that he outweighed Scotty by about seventy pounds, plus the fact that he had the support of Angle and Jindrak......no matter how Scotty viewed his odds tonight, they just didn't seem to favor him. He was going to have to utilize every trick he knew in his vast arsenal in order to leave Cincinnati with the United States Title still affixed to his waist.

"Here are your winners, and _still_ WWE Tag Team Champions.......Bubba and D-Von.......the Dudley Boys!" Tony Chimmel announced over the television screen, snapping Scotty out of his reverie. He focused back on the small screen as the Dudleys grabbed their title belts and retreated to the ramp to avoid the anger of their vanquished opponents. They had stolen their victory, of course, and Mysterio and RVD were understandably miffed at their missed opportunity at the belts.

Scotty sighed at the sight. It was a tough break for the dynamic duo, but they were almost guaranteed another shot at those titles somewhere down the road. Scotty cracked his knuckles as he realized that his match was up next. He forced himself to calm down as he made his way to the entrance in anticipation. There would be no commercial break for him to wait through tonight, meaning he would not have to deal too much with his thoughts running away from him.

He reached the gorilla position just as the somber pair of RVD and Mysterio walked through, disheveled and disheartened. Scotty spoke in as cheerful a tone as he could muster, "Great match out there tonight, guys. Very impressive."

RVD just shrugged in resignation, his face the very essence of passiveness, "Yeah, I guess it was. Maybe next time it'll be good enough for us to win those titles."

"You were watching it then?" Mysterio inquired.

"Yeah, I saw the last couple minutes," Scotty said sympathetically, "Don't worry, though. You two are really impressing management. It's only a matter of time before you get another shot at those titles."

"Yeah, I suppose so," Mysterio conceded with a sigh, "Still, it would've been nice to win 'em tonight."

"Yeah, but whatever; we'll get 'em soon. They can't keep those belts from us forever," Rob said amiably. He turned to the US Champion and said, "Hey, good luck tonight, man. We'll be rooting for ya."

"Thanks," Scotty smiled, "We'll see what happens."

RVD and Mysterio walked off to the locker room, leaving Scotty with his own thoughts before the big match. He rolled his shoulders in an effort to relieve the sudden tension he was feeling; this was it, his big moment.

As a nearby stagehand indicated thirty seconds to go before the next match, Scotty saw someone approaching out of the corner of his eye. Expecting Luther, he tensed up. However, he saw that the figure was much smaller and walked at a brisk pace uncharacteristic of Reigns' steady lumbering. Scotty smiled when he saw who it was.

"Mr. Long, now this is a surprise," he said, feeling reassured and curious at the same time.

The Smackdown General Manager approached him and said, "Excuse me one second, playah. I just have a quick announcement to make regarding your match real quick," he turned to the nearby stage crew, "Cue my music, if you would."

The stage hands pressed a few buttons on their console, and Teddy Long's music began to play a moment later. The GM winked at Scotty as he jogged up the steps and walked out onto the stage entrance, microphone in hand, amid the cheering fans.

"Holla _holla_!" Teddy Long announced to the Cincinnati crowd as Scotty listened from his position backstage. The General Manager continued, "Now before we proceed with the United States Championship defense, I have an announcement to make regarding Kurt Angle," he said slowly for emphasis. He waited a moment for the crowd's negative reaction to die down before continuing, "Now since Mr. Angle has been having a difficult time restraining himself in the past few weeks, I have decided to give him some added incentive to stay in the back for this next match. You see, Kurt, I am sick and tired of you interfering in Scotty 2 Hotty's matches, ya feel me? That is why I have decided to add the following stipulation to the following match: if anyone -- and I do mean _anyone_ -- interferes in the match between Scotty 2 Hotty and Luther Reigns, they will be fired on the spot, no questions asked!"

As the crowd erupted into cheers, Teddy Long shouted an exuberant, "Ballee-_dat_!" and walked back through the entrance as Scotty's music began to blare over the speakers.

With a joyful smile on his face, Scotty jogged up the steps, passing the departing GM on his way. Teddy Long patted Scotty on the shoulder and whispered a quick, "Good luck, playah," before leaving. Scotty nodded and ran through the curtains.

He was immediately met with a chorus of cheers from the thousands of fans in the arena, all of which were still quite worked up from Long's announcement. Scotty headed to the ring -- making sure to welcome all the fans on the way -- as Tony Chimmel announced the match, "The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the WWE United States _Championship_! Introducing first: he is the United States Champion, Scotty.......2......._Hotty_!"

Scotty slid into the ring and jumped up on the turnbuckle amid a deafening cacophony of cheers and a blinding flood of camera flashes. He posed for the fans a bit, then hopped down and repeated the process at the other three corners of the ring as Luther's music began to play.

Scotty paced back and forth in the middle of the ring as the hulking form of his opponent walked out onto the stage minus his partners Angle and Jindrak. He ignored the disapproving 'boos' of the fans as he steadily made his way to the ring. He hopped up onto the apron and stared at the US Champion intently as he was announced by Tony Chimmel, "And his opponent, weighing in at 295 pounds........Luther......_Reigns_!"

Reigns entered the ring as Scotty reluctantly unbuckled his belt and handed it to the referee, who stood in the middle of the ring and raised it high above his head for all to see. He jogged over to the side of the ring, handed the belt to a crew member, and motioned for the bell.

As soon as the bell rang, Scotty's mind cleared instantly of all intruding thoughts that could possibly interfere with his performance. The lights suddenly became less blinding, the noise less deafening, the tension less evident. The crowd suddenly began to fade away, as did the entrance and the announce table and the stage hands and photographers surrounding the ring. The only thing that mattered was Scotty and his scowling opponent. Without the external variable of Angle or Jindrak or anybody else interfering, the current US Champ was able to completely clear his thoughts and assume a single-mindedness that he was rarely given the chance to experience. He couldn't remember the last time he was more focused.

All of this occurred within the blink of an eye. Mere moments after the bell rang, Scotty dashed over to his opponent and began to hammer the big man's face with closed fists before he had a chance to react. Luther, caught off guard, stumbled back into the ropes as Scotty pummeled him with everything he had, raining blows down upon his opponent's broad chest and abdomen.

Luther blocked the vicious onslaught to the best of his abilities. After enduring the beating for several seconds, he swung his muscular arm outward and shoved Scotty back. The US Champ simply sprang back up and went right back to work, forcing Reigns into a corner.

He systematically pounded on every part of his opponent's body until the mighty Luther Reigns slumped down to his knees. Scotty then began to kick the large man's chest until he was forced flat on his back. Scotty grit his teeth in concentration as the ref pulled on his arm in an effort to get him to stop.

When his blood had just about reached a boiling point, Scotty backed away from his dazed opponent as the crowd cheered him on. He quickly ran to the opposite corner and dashed towards the groggy Reigns, turning his forward movement into a hard dropkick right to the sternum. Reigns, with his back to the turnbuckle, was sandwiched by the US Champion's kick; his breath left his lungs in a great "Ooof!" as Scotty stood back up, ready to continue with his unstoppable offense.

Before the US Champion could continue his onslaught, Luther slid out of the ring and stumbled around the outside, a hand clutching his aching chest. Scotty slid out and chased after him, running into the back of the big man's head with a running clothesline. Luther stumbled but managed to keep his balance. Scotty pounded his opponent's back, but Reigns turned unexpectedly and delivered a stiff right hand directly into the smaller man's gut. Scotty's midsection crumpled beneath the mighty blow, but he forced himself to remain upright. Sucking up the pain, he stomped away at Luther's legs in an effort to take the big man down.

Luther was brought to his knees, but he simply shot his arm forward and engulfed Scotty's face in his meaty hand. Scotty struggled to loosen the big man's grasp but Luther merely stood up and shoved the back of Scotty's head into the guard rail. Stars immediately began to dance in Scotty's vision as his surroundings became fuzzy. His eyes watered as his head began to throb from the incredible force of the blow.

Reigns grabbed his opponent by the head and rolled him back into the ring just as the ref reached seven in his count-out. The big man slid in the ring and covered the champion.

Scotty's dazed mind registered the cover and he was able to pull his shoulder up just in time. Nonplussed, Luther stood up gingerly, his chest still aching, and muscled the smaller man into the corner.

Reigns pounded on Scotty's midsection with vicious rights and lefts, leaving angry red welts on the US Champion's chest and stomach. Unable to defend himself, Scotty could only endure the punishment.

Luther shot his opponent into the ropes and ran him over with a massive clothesline. Scotty was knocked end-over-end and he landed hard on his stomach, the breath leaving his body once more. He got up onto his hands and knees, but Luther quickly straddled the smaller man and locked in a camel clutch. Not expecting such a sudden submission move, Scotty was unable to fight it until after it was locked in. He clawed at his opponent's beefy hands as his surgically-repaired neck was wrenched backward at a dangerous angle.

The referee leaned down next to Scotty's head, asking him if he wanted to quit. Scotty vehemently refused as he flailed his arms desperately for the ropes which were much too far away for him to reach anyway. He was beginning to feel light-headed. The pressure and the pain were beginning to get to him. No, he couldn't lose like this. He couldn't lose his title in such a way. He wasn't going to pass out; not a chance in hell.

In one last desperate move, Scotty grabbed hold of Luther's kneepads and planted his legs under him as best as he could given his position. Bunching his muscles together, he strained to lift the heavy man off of his back with every ounce of energy he had left.

For one joyful moment, it seemed that it was going to work, but Luther simply released his hold, jumped up, and drove his body right into the spine of his opponent. Scotty slammed onto the mat once more and tried to pick himself up doggedly.

As Luther's arms reached down to put him in the hold again, Scotty drove his elbow behind him in an act of desperation; his gamble paid off. His elbow connected with the face of his opponent, invoking a sickening _crack_. The hulking man immediately stumbled backwards from the blow, allowing Scotty to get to his feet.

As the US Champion slowly turned around to meet his opponent, he noticed the blood streaming down the big man's face and the odd angle his nose was pointing. Luther Reigns regarded the smaller man with fury as his broken nose continued to drip blood like a leaky faucet. Reigns was angry, to say the least.

Scotty smiled mockingly, baiting the large man to act brashly. Allowing his anger to dominate his actions, Reigns rushed his opponent with complete disregard for his actions. As soon as he approached within striking distance, Scotty performed a quick drop-toe hold, bringing the big man face-first down to the mat.

As Reigns landed on his stomach, Scotty immediately hopped onto his back and quickly wrapped his arms around the big man's head. Reigns tried to fight the US Champ's efforts, but Scotty managed to secure the headlock and twist his opponent's thick neck in a painful direction.

Reigns reached for the ropes, but he was too far. He planted his hands onto the canvas and hefted himself up with Scotty still clutching tenaciously to his head. Surprised at the strength exhibited by the big man, Scotty tightened his hold, not wanting to let his opponent get his feet under him.

The strength of Luther Reigns, however, proved to be too much for the smaller man to contain. Luther made it to his feet as Scotty clung to his back and neck doggedly. He could tell the big man was beginning to feel woozy, and if he could just hold on just a bit longer......

With a sudden surge of energy, Reigns backed into the corner, crushing the US Champion and breaking the hold. Luther stumbled forward, his head swimming and his nose still bleeding profusely, as Scotty recovered in the corner, his ribs aching.

Reigns turned back to the corner and charged his opponent, but Scotty countered with yet another drop-toe hold that sent the big man's head crashing into the second turnbuckle. Scotty crawled away to the opposite corner to catch his breath.

As the bloody Luther Reigns made his way to his feet and turned around, Scotty dashed forward and hit the big man with an impressive splash which snapped his opponent's head back against the top turnbuckle. Reigns stumbled and swung blindly at his nimble opponent, who simply ducked and connected with a savage uppercut.

Luther teetered back into the corner, his head aching and the entire lower half of his face coated in a thick coating of warm, sticky blood. Scotty held his hand up excitedly, acknowledging the cheers of the crowd, as he dashed forward again, this time intending to drive his shoulder into his opponent's gut.

As he shot his upper body forward, Reigns jumped out of the way at the very last second; Scotty's shoulder connected painfully with the unforgiving steel ring post, and it was all the young superstar could do to not yell out in pain. He hung on the ropes helplessly, not daring to move his aching shoulder.

Reigns grabbed Scotty by the waist, yanked him out from his precarious position on the ropes, and stuck the US Champ's head under his arm. Scotty, upon realizing that Reigns was going for his finisher, struggled violently in the big man's grasp until he reached the ropes. Luther reluctantly let go of the smaller man as the ref pulled the two apart.

As soon as the ref moved out of the way, Luther rained a volley of clubbing blows to Scotty's head and back. The US Champ winced in pain whenever his sore shoulder was struck, although he endeavored to mask his pain. The last thing he needed right now was to give Reigns a weakened body part to work on.

As the ref forced Luther to back off, Scotty used the ropes to pull himself to his feet unsteadily. When the big man moved in to inflict more punishment on the US Champion, Scotty retaliated with an unexpected drop kick to the chest. Reigns went flying backward onto the mat.

Both men slowly made it to their feet as the crowd began to cheer on Scotty. The young superstar circled his opponent and hit him from behind with a chop block just as Luther got his feet underneath him. The tall man toppled over and Scotty immediately went to work on wearing down the thick leg of his opponent.

Scotty executed a flurry of kicks, drops, and holds all centered squarely on the knee of Luther Reigns. The big man muscled out of each and every one of them, but Scotty noticed that he did so with just a bit less power each time. He was effectively wearing the big man down, and he was so close to victory he could taste it.

After being muscled away yet again, Scotty regained his balance and executed a standing Boston crab on the huge leg of Reigns. Luther clutched at his bloody face in an effort to keep his hands from tapping. He clawed towards the ropes, although he lacked sufficient power to shake off the tenacious US Champion. Scotty kept the move locked in, not willing to release the big man at any cost.

Reigns inched his way over to the ropes and eventually managed to get his fingertips onto the shaking bottom rope. The ref shook Scotty's shoulder, alerting him that he had to break the hold, but Scotty held on until the referee counted to four. Reigns pulled himself to the outside, clutching his injured knee as he tried to catch his breath.

The US Champion allowed himself only a moment to regain his bearings and take a deep breath before he slid out of the ring to pursue his opponent on the outside. As he neared the prone figure of Luther Reigns, the big man suddenly turned and drove his fist into the temple of the smaller man. Scotty stumbled backwards, feeling disoriented, as Reigns made it to his feet.

The big man threw a few punches at Scotty before picking him up and driving him spine-first into the steel ring post. Scotty fell forward onto the mat immediately after Reigns released him. His entire backside felt like it was being poked with a thousand tiny burning needles. He writhed on the mat in an effort to contain the lancing pain in his spine.

Reigns stormed over to him and stomped him a few times in the back just for good measure before rolling him back into the ring and covering him. The ref reached a two-count before Scotty got his shoulder up.

Feeling somewhat frustrated, Luther picked his opponent up and set him up for a power bomb. He lifted the smaller man up into the air, but Scotty managed to twist his abdomen and roll right over the head of Reigns, falling down towards the mat in a sunset flip. Reigns teetered and eventually fell over. Scotty completed the pin but only got a two-count.

Feeling slightly frustrated himself, Scotty grabbed onto the outstretched arm of his opponent and locked on an armbar. Reigns struggled but didn't quite have enough energy to make it to the ropes. He turned over onto his side and slowly made it to his feet, Scotty still engaging the excruciating arm bar. With a mighty yell of effort, Luther muscled his opponent clear off the mat and dropped him back down to the canvas on the back of his head. The impact immediately caused Scotty to break the hold and clutch his sore head.

Reigns stomped on the US Champ's back a few times before picking him up and shooting him into the ropes. Scotty bounced back and ducked a vicious clothesline that would have likely taken his head off at the shoulders, ran to the opposite side of the ring, bounced off the ring ropes again, and flipped over an unsuspecting Luther Reigns in another sunset flip attempt. Luther teetered again but regained his balance. With a mighty yell, he drove his fist downward, but Scotty slid out of the way at the last second and Reigns' meaty hand connected with the mat. He clutched his sore hand as Scotty bounced back up to his feet.

Luther turned around slowly, and Scotty saw his opportunity. He quickly took a step back; just as Reigns had completed his turn to face his opponent, he was met with a tremendous super kick right to his already-bloodied head.

The mighty Luther Reigns fell backward and hit the mat with a resonating _thump_, causing the entire ring to bounce once. Scotty slumped down to his hands and knees, feeling absolutely exhausted. He forced his protesting muscles into action as he crawled over to his vanquished foe, eventually collapsing on the big man in a sloppy cover.

"One, two......" the ref counted. Scotty's dazed mind was having a difficult time staying in touch with reality. The referee's hand was moving very slowly.......it was taking absolutely _forever_ for it to complete its descent to the mat. Had he won? What was taking so long? His mind was just too scrambled for him to effectively concentrate.

As the ref's hand came within mere millimeters of striking the mat, Luther's shoulder shot upward out of pure desperation. The excited crowd let out a collective groan at the sight. Scotty couldn't believe it. He turned to the referee, who was holding up two fingers with a look of impartial certainty on his face. Scotty quickly crawled into the proper pinning position, hooked his opponent's leg, and went for the pin again. Once again, Luther shot his shoulder up just a moment too soon.

Scotty could barely believe it. Nobody recovered from his super kick. Nobody. The blood-flecked eyes of Luther Reigns began to flicker open as the big man slowly sat upright. Scotty grit his teeth and began to pummel the man in pure, unbridled desperation. He was exhausted; he couldn't keep battling Reigns muscle to muscle. He had to somehow end the match before Luther had a chance to perform any high-impact moves.

Despite Scotty's best efforts, Luther managed to make his way to his feet. He appeared to be in as much as a daze as Scotty found himself in, but his strength remained a formidable force. Scotty bounced off the ropes and hit the big man with a running clothesline, but the big man did not go down. The US Champ ran to the other side of the ring, bounced off the ropes there, and tried for another clothesline. He connected, but again, Reigns stayed on his feet. He was teetering, though. Scotty ran into the ropes once more and charged his opponent full force.

As he approached, however, Reigns merely wrapped his arms around the smaller man and body slammed him to the mat. The entire ring shook upon impact, and Scotty found that he was unable to mask the pain in his back any longer. He clutched his spine in agony as Luther picked him up effortlessly and suplexed him back down into the mat once more.

Scotty got to his hands and knees and tried to crawl to the ropes, but Reigns grabbed him by the leg and dragged him back to the center of the ring. Scotty flipped over to his back and kicked at the big man with his free leg, scoring several good shots into his temple before he was forced to release the US Champion.

Reigns stumbled backwards into the ropes, his head swimming. With a head of steam firmly built up, Scotty rushed towards his opponent and clotheslined him with such force that both men tumbled over the top rope and onto the floor below.

The ref began to count as Scotty made his way to his feet. He stumbled over to his opponent and drove his knee into the big man's gut a few times. When he decided that Reigns was sufficiently dazed, he grabbed the big man's arm and shot him hard into the steel ring steps. Luther crashed into the harsh metal steps, sending them flying away, as he slumped over onto the floor, seemingly out cold.

Scotty rolled back into the ring to break the ref's count, then stalked over to his opponent, who had begun to stir on the outside. He approached, and Reigns grabbed Scotty's pants unexpectedly and threw him headfirst into the steel ring post. Scotty's cranium connected with the steel, and as he fell backward onto the mat, he could feel the sickening sensation of blood trickling across his forehead. He lay there on the mat outside the ring, his eyes staring straight ahead at the ceiling above, unfocused, disoriented, unable to make sense of his surroundings.

He vaguely recalled Luther Reigns picking him up off the mat and sticking the smaller man's head under his sweaty arm. The fans began to shout at Scotty frantically. He heard them, but could not quite make out what they were saying.

Then a horrifying thought struck him, _Wait, are we still outside the ring?_

With a demented grin dominating his gruff face, Luther Reigns delivered his finisher on Scotty on the thin padding surrounding the ring. Scotty's head struck the ground and snapped backward violently. His entire world became nothing more than a buzz of noises and a blur of lights and colors. Nothing made sense any more. It was as if he had suddenly been sent to an alternate reality where his perceptions were no longer working properly. And above all else, he could feel pain. He could feel undeniable, excruciating, indescribable pain. He was hurt, and he was hurt _badly_.

Luther Reigns stood up, his smiling face covered in the blood that still poured freely from his broken nose, and nudged the United States Champion with the toe of his boot. Scotty stirred slightly, but made no effort to stand up. Satisfied, the big man picked up his opponent with what little strength he had left and rolled him back into the ring.

Scotty just lay in the middle of the ring, his mind elsewhere and his body aching and broken. Luther slid in after him and stood up slowly, his entire body sore from the grueling match. He simply sat and stared at the comatose champion for a while, thoughts of the championship running through his head.

Not willing to take any chances, Luther picked the US Champion up and stuck the smaller man's head under his arm once again. The crowd was jumping up and down, begging him to stop, but the big man ignored them. With a mighty yell, he twisted his body and delivered his move to the US Champion once again. Again, Scotty's head bounced off the mat as his busted forehead dribbled blood all over the ring.

But Luther was not done. With a sick, bloody grin, he hoisted the limp form of Scotty 2 Hotty up off the mat and stuck the champion's head under his arm one more time. This time he simply stood there, looking out at the sea of faces. Some were anxious, some were worried, some were angry, and some were completely petrified, but they all shared one common emotion: concern. They were all concerned about the health of their United States Champion. They were well aware of the brutality that he had already endured, and nobody wanted to see him injured. Nobody wanted to watch what was happening to their beloved champion, yet they were unable to turn away from the gruesome sight. Luther Reigns drank the sight in, absorbed all the faces surrounding him. His smile disappeared. What happened next was strictly business.

With a sharp twist, he performed his finisher on the bloody young superstar a third time, sending his already injured body crashing down to the mat once more. Scotty bounced on the canvas once and then laid still, his face a horribly bloody mess and his body completely destroyed by the might of his opponent.

Reigns crawled over to the prone man on the mat and covered him.

_Get up!!_ Scotty screamed to himself, but his body simply would not cooperate. It was as if all of his nerves had temporarily short-circuited, leaving him paralyzed and helpless as the world around him continued to turn.

"One!"

_Get up! It's not over yet!_

"Two!"

_You can't lose! Not like this! Not yet!_

"Three!"

_It's not too late to fix everything!_

"Ladies and gentlemen.........."

_This is not happening!_

"Here is your winner........"

_None of this is real!_

"And the _new_........."

_Everyone's counting on me! I can't let them down!_

"United States Champion........."

_I'm so sorry......._

"Luther......."

_I can't believe this is happening......._

"Reigns!"

_No........._

Luther Reigns held the title in his bloody hands, staring down into the gleaming golden faceplate. He had done it. He had done what his mentor Kurt Angle had never been able to do: he had won the United States Championship from Scotty 2 Hotty. He was the new champion.

Luther smiled, fastened the belt around his think waist, and marched to the back. He never was one to make a big deal out of his accomplishments, so he wasted no time in the ring celebrating. No, he was going to enjoy his victory his own way.

_It's over.........all over........._

Many tense minutes passed before Scotty started to move. The referee called for paramedics, and within seconds the medics were rushing down to the ring with a stretcher between them. Scotty wiped the blood out of his eyes and squinted, trying to decipher his surroundings. He had lost. He had lost the match. He had lost the title. He had let everyone down. Nothing was going right.

The medics hovered around him, asking him if he was okay and shining a flashlight in his already-bloodshot eyes. He didn't respond. His physical injuries were nothing compared to the damage to his mind.

When they tried to fit a brace around his neck, he decided not to stick around any longer. The young superstar pushed the medics away and sat upright. They grabbed his shoulders and forced him to lay back down, but he shoved them away. He was going to leave the ring on his own power, and that was that.

Scotty rolled out of the ring and got his feet under him. Step by step, using the apron for guidance, he hobbled towards the ramp, his face pouring blood and his ribs bruised and most likely broken. As he shakily made his way up the ramp, the fans began to react to what they were seeing.

Slowly at first -- and then with increasing magnitude -- the fans began to stand up and clap. They clapped, and soon enough, others began to join in, adding to the sound until it became deafening. Almost every able-bodied member of the audience burst into applause as the former United States Champion made his precarious way up the stage, step by wobbly step.

When he reached the entrance, Scotty slowly turned around to face the sea of faces. He took his time to look at each and every one of them. None of them felt disappointed in him. None of them felt like he had let them down. No, they were actually happy for him; happy for everything he had given that night and every other night; they were grateful for the dedication that he exhibited week in and week out; they were glad that he had held onto the title for as long as he did; appreciative of his hard work and his honor and his character and his devotion; appreciative of his heart.

He slowly extended his hand and waved at the thousands of fans as a way of thanking them for their support. Hot, salty tears of gratitude began to run down his face and mingle with the sticky blood from his wound. He let them flow, unabated.

As the crowd broke into a chorus of "Scot-_ty!_......Scot-_ty!_......Scot-_ty_!" chants, the young superstar made his way backstage, where, out of view of his loyal fans, the damage inflicted upon him that night began to catch up with him. He managed to make it all the way to the locker room before his adrenaline wore off.

And when it did, the young superstar, unable to contain his agony any longer, passed out on the cold cement floor.


	7. The Brutal Aftermath

**Chapter 7:**

Scotty's mind swam in a haze, drifting in an endless sea of jumbled thoughts and vague sensations. He drifted endlessly in the expansive sea, not even attempting to fight or struggle or flail. The cold darkness was so comforting, so soothing. He felt as though he could simply drift in the mire forever and he wouldn't mind at all. This was a nice feeling. While he remained immersed in the pleasant waters of numbness, he was not bothered by pain. He was not pestered with feelings of discomfort or stress or disappointment. No, everything felt good, right here in this dark little world of his.

Sadly, the pleasing lack of feeling was interrupted far too early for his liking. He could vaguely register the unwelcome sensation of motion, and noise, and lights. All of these new stimuli were sharp, lancing, and whenever they presented themselves to the fallen superstar, his head felt like it was being jabbed by searing knives. The light was blinding, despite his closed eyelids. It was like he was staring directly at the sun no matter where he turned his head. The blinding light assaulted him from every direction, maddening in its persistence, and there was just no way to escape it. The young man considered blocking his eyes with his arm, but it wouldn't move. Why wasn't his arm cooperating? Was something holding it in place or did it just not want to listen to the stern command his mind had issued it? Nothing he did seemed to work, and the blinding light continued to torture him.

He heard noises too; loud, screeching, unpleasant noises. He couldn't decipher their origin or their meaning, but he was fully aware of their undeniable presence. Any noise that reached his ears -- no matter how minor -- scraped against his eardrums until they rattled and shook with such force that the young man's head literally felt like it was going to explode.

Every beat of his heart sent a surge of raw pain through his head as blood was pumped insistently through his veins. The noise became deafening, but it did not cease in its relentless cadence, _Ba-domp......Ba-domp......Ba-domp......_over and over and over again. Every steady beat of his heart sent life-giving blood coursing through his veins and through his broken body. Every beat sent spurts of the precious liquid dribbling out of the vicious gash on his forehead, saturating his upper body and drenching his skin. It was driving him crazy. He could feel the undeniable presence of the warm liquid dripping and oozing over his skin, but he was helpless to do anything about it. He couldn't even wipe his eyes. Blast, why couldn't he move his arm? If only he could regain control of his appendages, he might be able to mollify his situation somewhat. But no, it was no use. His arms remained firmly planted to his sides, resisting his every effort to move them.

Where was he going? He knew he was moving; he could feel the slight breeze against his cold, clammy skin associated with movement, but where was he going? Why was he going there? Would it be a good idea to allow himself to be taken there? Should he fight it? What if he was going somewhere unpleasant? No, that wouldn't make sense. Besides, how could things possibly get any worse than they were now? No, it would be best to simply conserve his energy and allow this movement to continue. After all, no harm had been associated with this motion, so why should he have anything to fear?

More lights......more noise......more talking......yes, he could definitely make out talking now. There were people nearby, and they continued to talk to each other -- or maybe even to him, although if they were, he could not hear them, let alone answer. Scotty could not make out their words; his mind was too jumbled and the trauma of the evening was just too great. Evening? Yes, it was night time, wasn't it? What had happened? Why was all this happening? Nothing made any sense.

Quite suddenly, he felt as if he was in a closed space with no air to breathe and no room to move around -- _if_ he could move, that is. He tried to move his arm once again, but was met with the same resistance. It figured as much; but he had to try, didn't he? There was no way of knowing if he could move or not unless he actually tried.

More movement, although this time, there was no pleasant breeze blowing against his skin. He was moving very fast, though. Strangely enough, the blazing lights above him were not moving with him. They were simply fixed there, directly above him, shining merciless beams of stabbing light directly through his closed eyelids. Wait a minute, were his eyelids even closed? Were his eyes open? Had they been open this whole time? Damnit, why couldn't he move his arm?!

More movement, more voices. The sterile lights flashed above him as he moved hurriedly across the meticulously-tiled floor, pushed along by a great number of people. At least, he could only _assume_ they were people......but really, what else could they be? Yes, things were beginning to come together. Things were beginning to make sense.

Scotty decided to try to focus on where he was and maybe try to work his way up from there. He allowed his eyes to lazily run along the moving ceiling -- no, of course the ceiling wasn't moving. Was it? No, he was moving and the ceiling was stationary. His movement simply gave it the appearance of motion.

Straining his bloodshot eyes, the young superstar tried to focus all of his attention on the fleeting flashes of light above him. After several moments, he was able to discern between separate flashes of light, but the more effort he put into it, the more the lights began to blur and meld together into one. Without even realizing it until it had already happened, the lights has all formed into one giant conglomeration, beaming down on him with the power of the sun. He blinked, and the light subsided for an instant. Wait...blinked? Scotty tried to blink again; much to his delight, he found that he could actually do so. He tried it a few more times just to make sure he had the simple command memorized, and left his eyelids closed. The blinding light was not so blinding now, and Scotty was satisfied with that.

And then, quite suddenly, the world around him exploded. Voices suddenly became more evident, shrill machines began to make deafeningly loud noises, and he was left with the sensation that his body was being ripped apart. Panicked, the young man tried to focus on everything happening around him in an effort to be more informed about his current situation, but a thick plastic mask was thrust over his mouth and nose and he was suddenly overcome with a noxious odor.

Scotty coughed into the mask, but it only continued to pump the foul-smelling fumes into his lungs. He tried desperately to move his arms once again, but they were firmly pinned to his sides. If only he could move them......if only......

But before he could make another attempt or even form another rational thought, he slipped back into the swirling mire of dark waters that he had been floating in not too long ago. This time, the waters were not peaceful and his mind was not so relaxed. No, he drifted hurriedly, desperately, towards some unknown destination that he had no control over. The waters were carrying him somewhere, and there was nothing he could do to protest his unwilling transmission.

And then, not even the darkness would harbor him. He fell into a dark whirlpool in the sea of blackness, and everything went blank. His thoughts, his concerns, his emotions, his feelings......all of it was gone, wiped clean, erased.

He slept, unfeeling, unknowing, uncaring.

Calm......

Empty......

Nothing more......

* * *

Scotty woke up shakily at first, uncertain of whether he was even alive or if the darkness had ultimately consumed him. His groggy mind focused on something in front of him, but it appeared blurry, disoriented. It didn't make sense. What was going on? Was there anything in front of him at all or was it all an illusion? Was _everything_ around him simply an illusion? 

He drifted back into oblivion.

An undeterminable amount of time passed, and when the young man's mind resumed its tenuous grip on reality, he was determined not to let go this time. He opened his eyes slowly, uncertainly, and the first thing he realized was light -- not the unpleasant, blinding, searing light from before, but a soft, warm glow that welcomed his woozy senses and urged him to open his eyes further.

When he determined that he had opened his eyes as much as he could, Scotty blinked in an effort to clear his vision of the crusty aftereffects of sleep. He impulsively lifted his arm to clear his lashes of the obscuring particles, and was quite delighted to find that his arms and hands were actually cooperating. He rubbed his eyes clean, then focused on flexing his arms and fingers in an effort to ascertain their presence and their willingness to accept his mind's orders; they complied without any resistance whatsoever.

From there, it was a simple matter of painstakingly analyzing every nuance of his body in an effort to ascertain the extent of his control. Aside from some protest from his forehead and his abdomen, he found that he could move fairly well; his entire body felt sore and stiff, but it certainly wasn't the worse scenario he could think of.

_What happened?_ Scotty asked himself. He strained to get his lethargic mind working again, but doing so only succeeded in immersing the young man in a sea of memories and emotions. So much had happened, how was he supposed to make sense out of any of it?

Scotty gritted his teeth in concentration. He was going to remember what had happened to him if it took him all day. Slowly at first -- then with growing momentum -- he was able to piece together the events of the previous night.

He remembered the match with Luther Reigns, along with most of the details of that encounter. He remembered having his head thrown into the ring post, followed by the unhindered flowing of blood down his face. After that......he remembered Luther picking him up and sticking his head under his arm. There was movement after that, but he couldn't quite remember what happened next. His head swam as he tried to recall what he had experienced.

The next thing he knew, he was in the ring with his head under Reigns' arm again, and then there was more darkness, more pain. Nothing made sense after that.

He remembered the voice of the ring announcer......yes, the ring announcer. He had said something that had made Scotty upset when he heard it. What was it? The US Title? Was that it? Yes, that must have been it.

After that, he remembered sitting upright and walking up the ramp without the help of the medics. He waved to the crowd, thanked them for their support, and then he made his way to the back. Everything after that was a complete blur, but he was left with the distinct impression that everything after this point had been particularly aversive. The young man decided that he had done well enough for the time being.

Scotty sighed as he shifted to a more comfortable position in the hospital bed he occupied. The room was small and it smelled far too sterile to be natural. The superstar wrinkled his nose but decided that it wasn't all that bad; it could certainly smell worse, after all.

He glanced around at his surroundings: he was right next to the window, which was nice, and the bed next to him was empty. There was a television on the wall in front of him, and a table and two chairs off to the side. There was also a framed picture of water lilies hanging on the far wall, although it was too dusty to convey the comforting sense it was clearly designed to invoke. Besides, it was hanging crooked, and that in itself was annoying.

There was nothing else in the sterile room aside from that. It was small -- almost claustrophobic -- but not altogether distasteful. The young man searched the side of his bed for the call button and found it tangled up in the cord of his IV. He pressed it and sank back into his bed, awaiting assistance.

After a few minutes of uneventful waiting, a plump, middle-aged nurse walked into the room. Scotty smiled as best as he could and said, "Hey, sorry to bother you."

The woman forced a smile onto her face and said, "No, not at all, Mr. Garland. What can I get for you?"

"Well, actually, I was just wondering if I could speak to a doctor or something. I'm kind of hazy about what happened in the past 24 hours, and I'd appreciate it if someone could fill me in," the young man explained.

Something flickered across the face of the nurse, but Scotty couldn't quite decipher its meaning. The woman said, "Of course. Let me go find Dr. Alstadt right away."

"Thank you," Scotty said as the nurse walked off.

The young man tried to rest his hands behind his head, but a sharp pain in his torso caused him to cease his movement immediately. He inhaled sharply, then slowly lowered his arms back down to his sides. His ribs were damaged, although he could not tell to what extent.

Scotty decided to take this time to try and assess the damage that had been inflicted upon him. Aside from the obvious injuries to his ribcage, he was also aware of a dull throbbing in his head. He slowly, tentatively, reached up a hand to feel his forehead, and was somewhat startled when his fingers brushed against gauze instead of the flesh that he had expected. He traced the length of gauze around his head and found that his entire forehead had been wrapped up; that wound must have been more serious than he originally thought.

Aside from the standard aches and pains associated with surgery and trauma, he could not detect any more substantial areas of pain or discomfort, _I guess I should be thankful that it wasn't my neck again_, Scotty mused as he unconsciously rubbed at his surgically-repaired neck. It was still in danger of being damaged again, and Scotty was just happy that it had remained intact through everything.

After a great deal of inactivity, Scotty looked up to find a thin man dressed all in white walk through the door, clipboard in hand. He walked over to the bedridden superstar and extended his hand, "Mr. Garland, I presume? My name is Dr. Alstadt. How are you feeling?"

Scotty shook the man's hand and managed a hoarse laugh, "Not too hot, thanks for asking. I'll probably feel better once my mind starts working properly again."

The doctor adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses and nodded sagely, "Yes, you were out of it for quite some time, it seems. You've been resting for three days now."

Scotty knitted his eyebrows together, "Three days? But the match just happened last night."

Dr. Alstadt pulled a chair up alongside the bed and explained, "No, I'm afraid not. The painkillers have distorted your sense of time, it seems. Your injuries were inflicted three days ago at your last event. Can you remember anything about that night?"

Scotty leaned back and exhaled slowly. Had he really been out of it for three entire days? Why did it feel like he had just been in that match last night? He simply sighed in resignation and answered the doctor's question, "Yeah, I remember most of it. I'm still kind of hazy on some parts, though."

"Understandable," Dr. Alstadt said patiently, "You suffered from considerable trauma to the head. That, coupled with a dangerously high amount of blood loss, led to some fairly serious problems."

"Yeah, about that," Scotty interjected, "What's wrong with me? Is there anything that I should be particularly worried about?"

"No, not at the moment," the skinny man said with a slight shake of his head, "You lost a lot of blood that night, but we were able to prevent it from clotting and leading to a stroke or worse. Several of your ribs were also damaged -- two cracked and three bruised. I can show you the x-rays if you'd like......"

"No, that's okay," Scotty said hastily, "I'll take your word for it. Just......give me a time frame, will you? How long am I going to be out of action?"

"Well, I'm afraid I really can't give you an accurate figure. You would need to speak with your primary physician about that," the doctor explained, "Unless any more complications come up, I believe you should be healed enough to check out in about forty-five days. As far as how much longer you will have to wait before returning to your job......well, like I said, that is not my place to speculate."

Scotty nodded understandingly. He would have to call his doctor sometime soon, but that could wait. His health was much more important at this point in time. He closed his eyes as his head began to throb once again.

"I can contact your primary physician if you'd like and relay his diagnosis back to you," Dr. Alstadt offered.

Scotty turned back to him and mustered a halfhearted smile, "Yes, I would appreciate that, sir. Thank you."

"Think nothing of it," the doctor said as he turned to leave the room, "You just worry about getting better. Just remember: if you need anything, don't hesitate to use the call button."

"Okay, thanks," Scotty said to the retreating doctor.

Dr. Alstadt made his way to the door silently, clipboard still in hand. However, upon reaching the doorway, he turned back around and addressed the injured man, "You know, Mr. Garland, as a medical professional, I have seen a great deal of injuries stemming from your line of work. In my opinion, I believe that the health risks associated with the world of professional wrestling are simply not worth the money or the fame of whatever else entices you folks to pursue this way of life. I do not wish to tell you how to live your life, Mr. Garland, but have you ever considered switching professions? I ask because I am concerned about your health and the health of all the other men and women who work alongside you. I have seen too many serious injuries to condone your choice of work, and it may be feasible for you to begin searching elsewhere for a safer occupation. Have you ever entertained such thoughts, Mr. Garland?"

Scotty just turned to the doctor standing in the doorway, "No sir, I haven't. I honestly can't imagine myself doing anything else. It's as simple as that," he answered with complete candor.

The doctor simply shrugged and left the room, presumably to contact the injured superstar's primary physician. Scotty made himself more comfortable in his hospital bed and tried not to let any disturbing thoughts invade his momentary peace.

It was true what he had told the doctor; wrestling was his life, his passion, and he had never entertained thoughts of switching careers because there _was_ no other career for him. Wrestling was the only thing he could ever see himself doing. To betray that would be unthinkable.

As the injured young superstar drifted off to sleep, thoughts of his triumphant return to Smackdown were already beginning to form in his head. He couldn't wait to get back.


	8. The Triumphant Return

**Chapter 8:**

As Scotty pulled his rental car into one of the spots behind the arena, he couldn't help but feel excited about the prospect of returning to his "job". For over two months, he had been forced away from the world of wrestling in order to recover from his injuries. His family had all been supportive of him, even though some of them – most notably his wife – expressed concern about his return to the world of professional wrestling. Naturally, they didn't want him to get hurt again, but Scotty calmly reassured his loved ones that he would be just fine.

The returning superstar unpacked his belongings and walked silently over the pavement of the parking lot. He breathed in the fresh Montreal air, glad to finally be back. He had been entertaining thoughts of his return for weeks now, but in the end, it was Theodore Long who had convinced him to return on the night of the Royal Rumble.

_"It will be a great angle,"_ the short general manager had explained to Scotty over the phone several weeks ago, _"The crowd loves it when one of their favorite superstars returns to a major event like this. I'll put a little more thought into what part you'll be playing', so don't you worry a thing about it, playah! As soon as you get back, come and see me and I'll personally tell you what I have in store for ya."_

Naturally, Scotty was curious to find out what part he would be playing in the Rumble, but he couldn't even begin to guess. He had been keeping track of the events on Smackdown while he was recovering, but there didn't seem to be any open spots left for him to fill. The roster for the Rumble Match itself was filled, but Scotty knew that there were always several so-called 'alternate spots' open just in case one of the guys failed to show up, which had been known to happen in the past. Getting thirty-plus superstars to arrive to a single event didn't always work out as planned, especially with the unreliable nature of airlines and traffic.

The former US Champion walked through the bright corridors of the arena, nodding politely to crew members he passed. It was still early in the day, so there was still much work to be done in preparation for the night's event. Almost everyone he passed was busy with their own task, so most of them were too preoccupied to notice the presence of the returning superstar. Those that did were quick to greet him and welcome him back to the business.

At long last, Scotty made his way to the Superstar locker room. As he stepped inside, Scotty noticed that nobody else was there; was he really that early?

With a slight shrug, the young man made his way over to a nearby bench and unpacked his belongings. He opened up his duffel bag and was somewhat disappointed when he was not met with the familiar gleaming belt that he had carried with him for the six months prior to his injury at Survivor Series. However, Scotty was not one to dwell on the past, so he paid his loss no particular attention. He may have lost the title to Luther Reigns, but the fans still loved him and most of his fellow wrestlers still respected him. What more could he ask for?

As Scotty laid his ring attire out onto the bench, he glanced at his watch – 3:08. He still had about five hours to kill before the Rumble started, so changing now would not make much sense. He thought back to the conversation he had had with Teddy Long and decided to go see what his boss had in store for him.

Scotty made his way down the hallways once more in search of the General Manager's office. After asking a nearby stage hand where he might find it, the returning superstar headed in the direction indicated, his curiosity getting the better of him.

After a few uneventful minutes of walking through the drab hallways, Scotty came upon his destination: Theodore Long's office. The young man knocked politely on the door.

"Come in. It's open," Long instructed from inside the office.

Scotty pushed the wooden door open and walked into the room as casually as he could. Though he was bursting with energy at the prospect of competing in the ring once again, he reminded himself that he had to remain calm and collected while in the presence of the General Manager.

Teddy Long sat behind a large oak desk, apparently filling out paperwork of some kind. He lifted his head from his work and immediately broke into a wide grin upon seeing who had entered. The General Manager got up from behind his desk and went to shake the returning superstar's hand, "Scotty! Good to see ya again, playah!"

Scotty smiled as he shook the hand of his boss, "Same here, Mister Long. It's great to be back."

Teddy Long motioned to a leather chair situated in front of his desk, "Please, have a seat. We have a lot to talk about."

Scotty did as he was instructed and waited patiently for the General Manager to get himself situated behind his desk. As soon as he was seated, Theodore Long folded his hands across the wooden surface and leaned forward eagerly, "So how have ya been? Are all your injuries healed up?"

"For the most part," Scotty said as he rubbed at his ribs unconsciously, "It'll be a few more weeks before I'm one hundred percent, but for now, I think I'll live. I take it you got the doctor's clearance okay?"

"Yes I did. I just received the fax a few days ago, as a matter of fact," Long explained, "You're all set to wrestle for tonight."

Scotty raised an eyebrow, "That's great to hear, Mr. Long, but I don't think I can contain my curiosity for much longer. What am I doing tonight?"

The General Manager smiled and leaned back in his chair, "Oh, Scotty, my man, I have quite an event planned for tonight! Smackdown's lineup of matches is gonna knock Raw right out of the water! As you know, the Royal Rumble Match has been filled up with competitors, and we have received confirmation from all of the participants that they will, in fact, be able to make it here tonight to compete. No, that's not what you're here for, playah. You're here for another match, one in which the WWE Tag Team Titles will be at stake."

Long chuckled at the returning superstar's expression of surprise and continued, "That's right, my man: you're going to get a shot at those titles right here tonight! Now as you know, the Dudleys have been Tag Team Champs here on Smackdown for _months_, and I think their success might be going to their heads a bit, ya feel me? They've challenged any able-bodied tag team on the Smackdown roster to a Tag Team Turmoil match tonight. So far, there have been four takers: John Cena and Eddie Guerrero, The Basham Brothers, Akio and Kenzo Suzuki, and Rob Van Dam and Rey Mysterio. Of course, since this is an open challenge, there is still plenty of time for other teams to step up to the plate and challenge the Dudleys for the gold, and since you came all the way to Montreal tonight, I figured you should find yourself a partner and be a part of this match, ya feel me?"

Scotty smiled at the thought, "I feel ya, Mister Long. In fact, I already know who my partner is going to be. Shannon Moore is still scheduled to compete in the Rumble Match, right?"

Theodore Long nodded, "You bet, playah. I'll call his cell phone right away and let him know what's up. In the meantime, I'm sure you've got some catching up to do with all the other guys."

Scotty nodded as he stood up and shook the General Manager's hand once again, "Yes, I do. It'll be great to see how everyone is doing. Thank you for this chance, Mister Long. Thank you very much."

"Think nothing of it, playah," Teddy Long said with a smile, "You deserve it, after all."

As Scotty turned to leave, Theodore Long spoke up, "Oh, and Scotty," the young man turned around and the General Manager continued, "You be careful out there, y'hear? Kurt Angle is none too happy to hear that you're back, and I wouldn't put it past him or his guys to get in a cheap shot on ya. If you see those guys, don't let your pride get in the way of your better judgment, alright?"

Scotty nodded, his face reflecting the gravity of the situation, "I understand, Mister Long. Thanks for the warning."

"Holla," Teddy Long called after the young man as he left the office.

Scotty made his way through the bustling corridors, the entire environment bringing a smile to his face. Whenever he had been forced to stay away from the business for an extended period of time, he always felt a sense of elation and belonging upon his return. There was just something about this business, some intangible aspect that he couldn't quite identify, that always managed to put his mind at ease. It was no secret that this truly was the place where he belonged; there was no other occupation in the world that he would have preferred over professional wrestling.

The young man made his rounds through the backstage area, socializing with the crew members when they weren't busy setting things up. He had always gone out of his way to get to know the people who worked behind the scenes, the people who were essential to the show yet never received any recognition. Scotty felt compelled to talk with them, and was pleasantly surprised at how interesting some of them were. Unlike most of the other wrestlers, he considered the stage hands on the same level as all the rest of them. In Scotty's mind, to think otherwise would be ludicrous.

Scotty eventually made his way to the outside of the arena, where he noticed that some of the more diehard fans had begun to congregate in front of the entrance. He briefly considered going over to sign autographs and mingle, but remembered that his presence was to be kept a secret until the actual moment that he appeared during the show. No, he would have to remain hidden from view for now, but there would always be plenty of time to interact with them once the show was over.

Scotty checked his watch again – 5:17. Some of the other wrestlers were sure to have shown up by now. He ventured in the direction of the locker room to meet up with them.

As he strolled casually down the hall, he noticed three figures approaching him from further down the hall, their bags clutched in their hands as they talked among themselves. One of them had the US Title slung over his broad shoulder. Of course, it was Angle, Reigns, and Jindrak, though they had not yet noticed Scotty's presence.

_If you see those guys, don't let your pride get in the way of your better judgment, alright?_ Theodore Long's voice played back inside Scotty's head. He knew that being in the presence of those three was just an accident waiting to happen, but he couldn't bring himself to back away from them. It just wasn't in his nature to run away.

Stone-faced, Scotty continued on down the hallway in their direction, his eyes firmly locked in front of him. Jindrak was the first to notice the young superstar; he tapped Angle on the arm and motioned in Scotty's direction.

Angle turned his head towards the approaching young man and said cheerfully, "Scotty 2 Hotty! Great to have you back!" His voice was patronizing; it made Scotty sick just to hear it.

Scotty ignored them and tried to walk by, but Angle and Jindrak cut him off, blocking him from advancing further down the hall. A devious smirk tugged at the corners of Angle's mouth, "What's wrong, Scotty? Aren't you going to say 'hello'? Aren't you glad to be back? We're welcoming you back into the family with open arms, and you're ignoring us. That isn't right, Scotty."

"I have nothing to say to you," Scotty spat venomously as he stared the Olympic Gold Medalist in the eye, "If you don't mind, I have a match to prepare for. Shouldn't you be doing the same?"

"A match, huh? On your big night back?" Angle chuckled, "Oh, this is too good. I have to hear this. What does Teddy Long have planned for your triumphant return tonight?"

Scotty glared at his enemy and responded, "That really isn't any of your business."

Angle took a step forward to bring his face within inches of the returning superstar's own, "How about I _make_ it my business?"

"Hey, leave him alone," Luther Reigns spoke up suddenly as he placed a hand on the Olympic Gold Medalist's shoulder.

Angle turned to his cohort with a confused look on his face, "Leave him alone?" he repeated, incredulous.

"It's……he's not worth it, man. Just let it go. Come on, we've got to get ready for the Rumble Match," Reigns explained hastily.

Angle, Jindrak, and even Scotty just stared at him in bewilderment. After an uncomfortable silence, Angle stepped away from Scotty. He shot the young superstar a hate-filled glance before making his way down the hallway with Luther and Jindrak in tow. As the trio left, Luther shot a quick glance over his shoulder at Scotty, his facial features indistinguishable.

Scotty just stood there in confusion as the three of them left to get ready for the big Rumble Match. The young man knitted his eyebrows, _What the heck was _that_ all about?_

Scotty just shook his head slowly and continued on his way. He would think about it later. For now, he, too, had his own match to prepare for.


	9. Picking Numbers

**Chapter 9:**

"Scotty! There you are! I've been looking all over for you, man," Shannon Moore shouted enthusiastically from across the indoor parking area. He was already dressed in his wrestling attire and he carried a duffel bag underneath one arm.

A smile quickly formed on Scotty 2 Hotty's face as he spotted the young superstar approaching him, "Hey, Shannon. I've been looking for you, too. Where ya been? Did you just arrive or something?"

Shannon jogged over to his tag team partner for the night and fell into step behind the returning superstar as they made their way in the direction of the locker room. He shook his head and answered, "Naw, I've been here a good forty-five minutes or so. Teddy Long told me all about our match as soon as I got here and I've been looking for you ever since."

Scotty shrugged sheepishly, "Sorry about that. I've just kind of been wandering around the whole time, getting re-acquainted with everyone, you know? You take some time off and you begin to realize just how much you love this business when you return."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Shannon remarked, recalling the long transition he had endured between his employment for WCW and WWE. He continued, "Well, the show is going to start any minute now. Shouldn't you be changing into your ring attire?"

Scotty laughed, "Yeah, I guess I should, shouldn't I?" he agreed as he checked his watch – 7:44. The Tag Team Turmoil Match was estimated to be at around 8:30, so he had plenty of time to get changed and perform his before-match stretches and warm-ups.

Scotty turned to glance at his partner through the corner of his eye. The young cruiserweight's jaw was set in determination and his eyes had a hardened edge to them which was very uncharacteristic of him. Scotty nudged him in the arm with his elbow and remarked, "Ease up, man. There'll be plenty of ass to kick later on tonight. We'll get our fair share."

Shannon's demeanor lightened somewhat, but he still remained a bit more tense than usual. He shrugged as he walked, "Sorry, I guess I'm just really anxious about tonight. First we've got the Tag Team Turmoil Match, then I have to gear up for the Royal Rumble. I can't remember the last time I had to pull double duty; I just hope I've still got enough left in the tank by the time the Rumble comes along."

"Hey, don't worry about it. You won't be alone," Scotty reminded the intrepid cruiserweight, "A lot of guys are wrestling in both the Tag Team Turmoil Match and the Royal Rumble. You won't be the only one pulling double duty."

"Yeah, I guess you've got a point," Shannon admitted as the pair approached the Smackdown locker room. The blonde-haired cruiserweight motioned further down the hall, "Look, I'm gonna go pull my number for the Rumble tonight. I'll be right back, okay?"

"You got it," Scotty said with a wave as he ducked into the locker room. He called out to the retreating Moore, "Pick a good one!"

The returning superstar smiled slightly as he made his way over to the spot where he left his belongings earlier. The locker room was bustling with activity, and the air itself buzzed with the excitement of the evening. Most of the superstars were milling about and talking amongst themselves, although several were missing – most likely off wandering the halls or preparing for their own matches in privacy.

Scotty glanced over at the dry erase board set up next to the door as he pulled his baggy wrestling pants out of his bag. The first match of the evening was Edge vs. Batista for the Intercontinental Title, followed by WWE Champion Big Show defending his title against The Undertaker in a First Blood Match. That match was followed up by the Smackdown Tag Team Turmoil match and, of course, the Royal Rumble itself. It was looking to be a very busy night for all involved, especially the superstars on the Smackdown side of things.

As Scotty got dressed and went through the usual process of taping up his wrists and lacing up his boots, he was aware of Kurt Angle and his associates eyeing him from across the room. Scotty pretended not to notice them, but he felt their eyes boring into him all the same. Of course, they wouldn't dare try anything in a crowded locker room, so Scotty wasn't too worried about trouble at the moment.

He was far more interested in deciphering the motives of the current United States Champion, Luther Reigns. Luther was jogging in place in preparation for the big Rumble Match, but he occasionally shot Scotty a glance that seemed to be a mix of sympathy, curiosity, and anger. Indeed, it was an odd pairing, and Scotty found that he was quite unable to read the big man's face with any accuracy. What was going through his mind right now? What was the story behind him defending Scotty earlier tonight when Angle and Jindrak were looking to rough him up? Reigns was one of the last people Scotty had expected to come to his aid, especially after the first-class beating he had inflicted upon the young superstar at the Survivor Series. Why, then, had he convinced Angle to leave the returning superstar alone when they had their confrontation in the hall? It just didn't make sense, and Scotty wasn't sure if thinking about it would do him any good. Luther had always been a somewhat mysterious man, so learning more about him or his motives seemed futile at best.

As Scotty sat down on the floor and stretched his legs out to either side of him, a stage hand popped into the locker room and announced, "Um, excuse me……General Manager Theodore Long has requested that all superstars involved in the Royal Rumble match please head to his office to draw entry numbers," the stage hand checked her clip board, "Also, everyone involved in the Tag Team Turmoil match later tonight is to report to Mr. Long's office at exactly 8:15 to pick entry numbers for that match as well."

Scotty made note of the time as most of the wrestlers in the locker room filed out to pick their numbers for the Rumble. He pushed any distracting thoughts of Luther Reigns and Kurt Angle from his mind and continued with his stretching exercises. He would worry about it later, if he had time.

* * *

"Well, what did you get?" Scotty asked his tag team partner for the evening as the two made their way to the entrance area among a scattered group of softly-murmuring superstars. The show had just begun several minutes ago, and already Eric Bischoff was in the ring talking about how Raw was going to win the Rumble for the third straight year and effectively raising the ire of all the Smackdown fans in the audience.

Shannon Moore shrugged, "Sixteen. Not bad……but not exactly good either."

"Yeah," Scotty was forced to agree, "Don't worry about it, though. You'll do just fine."

Shannon just raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, I guess we'll se about that."

As everyone lounged about in the backstage area and watched the Pay-Per-View proceed from the small monitors scattered throughout the area, Scotty couldn't help but feel a strange sense of anticipation and excitement creep over him. Important Pay-Per-Views like the Royal Rumble were always a big deal, but when an injured superstar made his triumphant return during one of them, the reaction from the crowd was usually deafening. He could only wait with barely-contained zeal as the first match played out – more or less – as the schedule had predicted, giving way to the WWE Title Match which was scheduled to be next

As Big Show and Undertaker continued their struggle to beat each other for the WWE Title, a nearby stage hand announced that it was time for the Tag Team Turmoil participants to draw their numbers for the night's match. Scotty and Shannon made their way side-by-side down the hall to Theodore Long's office, where a large hopper was set up on a nearby table. Only six plastic orbs occupied it, as opposed to the thirty which had been occupying it for the Royal Rumble drawing. Scotty and Shannon were the first to enter the office, followed by the scowling duo of Kenzo Suzuki and Akio. The confident Bashams entered next, and behind them were the innovative team of Rob Van Dam and Rey Mysterio. John Cena and Eddie Guerrero were next in line, with the ever-arrogant Dudley Boys strutting inside the crowded office after them with the gleaming Tag Team Belts resting comfortably on their shoulders.

As the champions walked in, Bubba shot a look of disgust in the direction of Scotty 2 Hotty and Shannon Moore, "What the hell is this?" he asked the General Manager, "There were only supposed to be five teams for tonight. What are these chumps doing here?"

Scotty's eyes narrowed at the comment, but Theodore Long quickly spoke up, "Correct me if I'm wrong, Bubba Ray, but wasn't it the Dudley Boys who issued an open challenge to all the tag teams on the Smackdown roster?"

Bubba just snorted and leaned up against a nearby wall, his uninterested gaze falling upon all of his potential enemies. Likewise, D-Von stared out into the collection of contenders with a look of satisfaction and confidence on his face.

"Now then," Theodore Long continued, "I assume you all know the rules of a Tag Team Turmoil match, but just in case, allow me to go over them again. The teams that draw numbers One and Two will start the match off, and when one team is eliminated, Team Three will make their way to the ring to compete. This will continue until there is only one team left, and that team will walk out of Montreal with the WWE Tag Team Titles around their waists, ya feel me? Now then, Bubba, D-Von, since you're the champs, you two get to pick the first number."

The Dudley Boys pushed past the intense stares of their rivals to stand before the hopper which the General Manager was spinning. When Teddy Long brought the hopper to a stop, D-Von Dudley unlatched the mesh barrel lazily and plucked a sphere from the pile. He casually opened it up and unfolded the slip of paper inside. All was silent for a moment, but when D-Von's face broke into a wide grin, the other superstars in the office let out a collective sigh of disappointment.

D-Von held up the slip of paper and proclaimed proudly, "Well, seeing as how I just drew the sixth spot, I guess this little contest here is already over. Have fun beating the hell out of each other."

With that, D-Von made his was out of the office with Bubba Ray in tow, laughing all the way. Already, the WWE Tag Team Champions had picked the very best number of the lot. That simple fact, coupled with the overwhelming experience of the Dudleys, led the other teams to believe that maybe the match really was over before it had even begun.

Nevertheless, the other teams all took their turns pulling their numbers out of the hopper. The Basham Brothers were next, and Danny scowled slightly when he drew the unfortunate number Two. Rob Van Dam drew the next number, and seemed quite please when he picked up the number Four. Scotty stepped forward to draw the number for him and Shannon. He fished into the hopper, hoping to pick anything but One.

As he withdrew his hand, Scotty eagerly opened the little plastic ball and gazed upon the slip of paper inside. Five.

Scotty smiled in excitement and showed the number to Shannon, who quickly nodded his approval. Things couldn't really get much better than that.

Eddie Guerrero then picked the next number, but upon discovering that he had picked the dreaded number One, he let out a sigh of frustration and went about trying to coerce RVD and Mysterio into switching numbers with him while Cena just shrugged nonchalantly. Kenzo Suzuki drew the last number, which was Three, of course. He and Akio exchanged a few words in Japanese before making their way out of the General Manager's office in silence. John Cena and Eddie Guerrero left with Rob Van Dam and Rey Mysterio, Eddie and Rey arguing about their numbers like old friends.

"All right then, good luck, playahs," Theodore Long called after the retreating teams as he checked his watch. The First Blood match between Big Show and Undertaker was sure to be nearly over by now, so the Tag Team Turmoil match would begin any minute.

As Scotty and Shannon went to exit the General Manager's office, Scotty couldn't help but notice the Basham Brothers talking among themselves in whispered tones, no doubt formulating some kind of plan to overcome the five other teams they would have to get through to win the titles. At first, Scotty paid them no heed, but when Doug quietly whispered the word, _Angle_, the returning superstar's interest was immediately piqued.

As Scotty and Shannon made their way to the entrance area along with all the other Tag Teams, he vaguely heard Tony Chimmel announcing to the crowd that Big Show had won the match and held onto his WWE Title. That, of course, signified the start of the Tag Team Turmoil match, and all superstars involved immediately jumped to attention.

As a bloodied Undertaker stalked through the curtain a minute later, all conversation dropped and the milling superstars wisely kept their mouths shut as the intimidating Deadman walked solemnly past them; even the normally vociferous Dudley Boys were uncharacteristically silent in the presence of the legend. Several moments later, Big Show made his way through the curtain, his face drenched with sweat and his opponent's own blood. The seven-foot giant made an impressive figure indeed, especially with the gleaming WWE Title slung around his shoulder.

After a short break in which Shawn Michaels was interviewed just down the hall, Smackdown announcer Tony Chimmel announced the initiation of the Tag Team Turmoil Match. The crowd cheered in excitement as Eddie Guerrero's music hit and the team of Guerrero and Cena made their way through the entrance curtain amid a chorus of cheers and applause.

_Well, this should certainly be interesting_, Scotty thought to himself as he leaned up against a nearby wall and stared intently at the TV monitor in front of him.

A moment later, the music of the Basham Brothers filled the arena and the two twins detached themselves from the grouping of gathered tag teams to start the match against the popular team of Cena and Guerrero. As they passed, Danny Basham shot Scotty a glance that could only be described as malicious and mischievous at the same time. The brothers continued their journey to the stage entrance as Scotty's mind desperately tried to grope for answers. First he heard them talking about Angle, then they shoot him that enigmatic glance…..what were they planning?

And then, as if on cue, Kurt Angle and his two henchmen casually made their way over to the milling Tag Teams, seemingly just to talk and wish them luck. Scotty sighed through his nose as things began to fall into place. He had expected Angle to try something during the match, and his dubious appearance now all but confirmed that suspicion. Things were going to get ugly.


	10. The Inevitable Confrontation

**Chapter 10:**

Scotty leaned up against the bare stone wall of the backstage area, his arms folded across his chest nonchalantly. He kept his gaze firmly fixated on the small TV monitor situated on a table a few feet away, watching as the Bashams did battle with Cena and Guerrero. He was vaguely aware of the presence of Kurt Angle and his two henchmen, but he paid them no heed; they were off bothering Mysterio and RVD, and Scotty didn't want anything to do with the Olympic Gold Medalist at the moment.

Shannon Moore, however, had no qualms about shooting disdainful glances towards the conversing Olympian when he wasn't paying half-hearted attention to the screen in front of him. He leaned in close to Scotty's ear and whispered, "What do you make of all this? You think he plans on getting involved in the match tonight?"

"No doubt," Scotty sighed in resignation, "We'll just have to be extra cautious when we're out there, that's all."

Shannon snorted silently, "Well, that's a bit easier said than done, don't you think? If we have to worry about our two opponents, we can't have three other guys distracting us. Angle is going to cost us those titles for sure."

"Not if we don't _let_ him," Scotty reminded his partner, "Look, I know Angle is going to be doing everything in his power to make sure we end up losers tonight, but we can't give him that pleasure. I, for one, am not going to let anything ruin our match tonight. We're going to win those titles no matter _what_ Angle tries to do to us."

Shannon blinked and leaned up against the chill next to his partner. He shot another glance towards the Olympic Gold Medalist and his companions and said off-handedly, "I sure wish I had your confidence, man."

Scotty chuckled slightly, "If there's one beneficial aspect about taking time off, it's the development of confidence. I tell you what, I feel damn near invincible right now. I'm just eager to get back in the ring and compete again and show the world what I can do, you know? What better way then to win some gold with one of the people who have stood by me through it all?"

Moore rolled his eyes in amusement as a slow smile formed over his youthful face, "Alright, your flattery has done the trick. Damn, man, your energy is infectious, you know that?"

"I try," Scotty responded with a wink.

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the ring of a bell emanating from the television screen. Scotty and Shannon turned their attention back to the match taking place. Doug Basham was arguing heatedly with the referee, a metal chair placed at his feet while Eddie lay on the mat laughing behind the referee's back. Ring announcer Tony Chimmel announced the outcome: "Ladies and gentlemen, due to a _disqualification_, the Basham Brothers have been eliminated!"

Amid the cheering crowd, most of the superstars gathered in the backstage area found themselves unable to resist the urge to chuckle. It looked like Eddie Guerrero had stolen another victory from the Bashams like only he could.

The irate Basham Brothers had barely exited the ring before Kenzo Suzuki's music began to play over the speakers. Kenzo turned to his partner, barked a harsh order in his native language, and strode over to the entrance area with his characteristic scowl firmly affixed to his face. Akio silently followed his partner to the entrance, his demeanor speaking of untold confidence.

Scotty watched them leave out of the corner of his eye. _Cena and Guerrero had better be careful with those two_, the young superstar thought to himself, _There go two no-nonsense guys . . . it's going to take a bit more than sly tricks to take them out_.

A sudden tapping on his shoulder caused Scotty 2 Hotty to snap out of his musings; Shannon Moore was trying to get his attention. The former US Champion glanced over at his partner and caught sight of Kurt Angle walking purposefully towards the two cruiserweights, a deceptively innocent smile on his face. Reigns and Jindrak remained standing nearby, ready to move if their mentor gave them the appropriate signal. Luther Reigns had the US Championship flung carelessly over his shoulder, his beady eyes never resting in one place for more than a few seconds. He was obviously distracted about something, though what that 'something' _was_, exactly, remained a mystery that only Reigns was aware of.

Scotty brought his attention back to the Olympic Gold Medalist, whose smile seemed to grow even larger as he approached his rival. Scotty sighed, "What do you want, Kurt?"

Angle came to within an uncomfortable distance and glanced over the returning superstar, his crystal blue eyes taking in the sight before him, "Nothing, really. I just wanted to see how all the competitors in this match were feeling tonight, maybe give them my blessing if they feel they need it. You know, just the –"

"Oh, cut the crap, Angle," Scotty interrupted, "I know what you're here for. You want to try to distract me and Shannon from the match we have tonight because it would tear you apart to see me with gold around my waist once again, wouldn't it? Just take your false blessings somewhere else, alright?" he said sternly.

Angle squinted his eyes slightly, the playful look disappearing from his gaze completely. He raised an eyebrow and slowly extended his hand outward, indicating that Scotty should do the same. The Olympic Gold Medalist said quietly, "I just want to wish you good luck out there Scotty. I sincerely hope nothing bad happens to you on your triumphant return to Smackdown."

"Whatever, Angle. If you think I'm going to buy your load of bull, you've got another thing –"

"Shake my hand, Scotty."

The commanding edge in Angle's voice was so forceful that Scotty flinched reflexively. He cast a disdainful glance at the former WWE Champion's outstretched hand and shook his head slowly, "No, I don't think I will."

"That isn't very sportsmanlike, Scotty. Shake my hand."

"Buzz off."

"I'm not giving you an option, Scotty. Shake my hand. Now."

"He said no," Shannon Moore interjected.

"This doesn't concern you, junior," Angle spat at the young cruiserweight. He turned his attention back to Scotty 2 Hotty, "Do I have to ask you again?"

"Hey, come on, Kurt, that's enough," the gruff voice of Luther Reigns sounded from behind the Olympic Gold Medalist.

Kurt Angle slowly turned around to stare at his henchmen, a look of confusion on his face. Luther swallowed nervously and shifted his weight to his other foot. He licked his lips quickly and said, "Look, don't you think now would be a good time . . . ? You know, that thing you wanted to talk to the Dudleys about . . . "

Upon hearing the mention of their name, the Dudley Boys immediately broke away from the hushed conversation they were having a short distance away and looked in the direction of Reigns and Angle. D-Von shouted, "Speak to us about _what_?"

Angle only continued to fixate his puzzled gaze at his muscular henchman for a few more moments before turning his attention back towards Scotty and whispering, "You'd better watch your back out there."

The Olympic Gold Medalist slowly turned away from the returning superstar and stalked over to where the Dudleys were waiting patiently, their titles latched proudly around their waists. Angle gave Luther a cryptic glance as he passed by the big man and continued his steady march across the bare concrete floor. Reigns and Jindrak instinctively fell into step behind their boss as he approached the Dudley Boys, though Reigns appeared to keep just a bit of distance between himself and Angle as he did so.

Scotty silently watched the three of them approach the Tag Team Champions, his mind trying to make sense of just what he was witnessing. Could it be that Luther Reigns was actually . . . sticking up for him? The whole notion seemed silly at best, but from what he had seen throughout the day, Scotty was beginning to think that that was the case here. But why? Why would the man that put him in a hospital for nearly two months try to defend him now that he had returned? Surely Reigns wasn't beginning to regret hurting Scotty so badly, was he? Reigns was not exactly the kind of guy who was known to show compassion in _any_ form, but what other reasoning could possibly be behind this behavior? What other motives could he have for defending the returning superstar? What was Reigns thinking inside that shadowed and secretive mind of his?

"Scotty? You alright?" Shannon Moore asked his tag team partner, the concern evident in his voice.

"Huh? Oh, yeah . . . yeah, I'm fine. I was . . . just thinking, that's all," Scotty answered distractedly, one eye watching his enemy and possible ally confer with the Dudleys and the other eye concentrating on the TV screen in front of him.

He was suddenly broken out of his reverie by the cheering of the fans in the arena. Scotty cleared his mind of all his distracting thoughts and turned his attention towards the television monitor. John Cena had Akio up on his shoulders, and Suzuki was being occupied by Guerrero on the outside of the ring. Cena turned towards the camera, smiled confidently, and delivered a devastating F-U to his opponent. As Akio hit the mat and clutched at his back, Eddie Guerrero quickly scaled the top turnbuckle and delivered a flawless Frog Splash onto his prone foe. Kenzo Suzuki struggled to get back into the ring, but Cena kept him distracted just long enough for Guerrero to pin Akio and pick up the victory.

The excited Montreal crowd all cheered in unison as Tony Chimmel announced once again: "Ladies and gentlemen, the team of Kenzo Suzuki and Akio has been eliminated!"

"Alright, Rey Rey, time to go kick some ass," the ever-relaxed Rob Van Dam told the masked superstar as he sauntered over to the ring entrance.

Mysterio fastened the chin-strap to his mask and fell into step beside his partner for the night, "Let's do this, 420-style."

Van Dam laughed confidently and disappeared behind the entrance curtain alongside Mysterio. Their music hit a moment later amid the excited cheering of the crowd. RVD and Mysterio appeared to be the favorites going into this contest, and with Cena and Guerrero feeling the aftereffects of two straight matches, they were sure to encounter their fair share of difficulty in grappling with the high-flying duo.

Scotty sighed and watched the match start up on the monitor, his heart beating against his ribcage in eager anticipation. He and Moore would be going out to face the winner of this match, and the returning superstar knew that it would be in his best interest to watch the proceedings from this point on. If either member of either team happened to reveal a weakness or injure a body part, Scotty wanted to make sure he knew about it.

As the match progressed, however, the returning superstar could not help but find his mind wandering back to the conversation taking place between Angle and the Dudleys. His gaze continually slipped back to the small gathering just a short distance away, and he strained his ears to catch any important word that he could. He knew Angle was up to no good; with the sadistic nature of the Dudleys paired with the spitefulness of the Olympian, trouble was sure to be on the way for Scotty and his blonde-haired partner.

Angle mumbled something to the WWE Tag Team Champions, who both appeared to be regarding the Olympic Gold Medalist with an equal mixture of suspicion and annoyance. Angle gestured excitedly with his hands and the Dudleys both assumed an offended look. Bubba Ray responded in a voice just loud enough for Scotty to hear, "What makes you think we can't beat those two chumps all by ourselves? We're the freakin' Tag Team Champions; we can handle a pair of wanna-be contenders who each weigh about as much as my arm."

Angle quickly said something else to placate the Dudleys, though Scotty could only catch a few words of the Olympian's response, "Look, just . . .nothing . . . all you have to . . . they can't . . . just making sure . . . but whatever else . . . after that."

D-Von just folded his arms across his muscular chest while Bubba Ray placed his hands on his hips. Once again, the boisterous Bubba spoke just a bit too loudly, "Yeah, and what do _we_ get out of all this?"

Angle smiled and motioned towards Luther Reigns, who had simply stood off to the side as a neutral party up until this point. Angle spoke up in a voice loud enough for Scotty and Shannon to hear, "You do this for us, and I'll give each of you a shot at the US Title, no questions asked. You would each have the chance to become a double-champion, something that very few superstars ever get the chance to accomplish. What do you say to _that_, boys?"

Reigns just stared at his mentor incredulously while Bubba Ray and D-Von conversed among themselves. Scotty blinked in shock as Angle's offer sank into his mind, _Did Reigns know he was going to say that_?

After a moment or two, both of the Dudley Boys nodded in greedy satisfaction. Bubba answered, "Alright, you've got yourself a deal. Consider it done."

Both of the Dudleys looked in Scotty's direction and smiled smugly; Scotty just glared back at them in defiance. Angle did likewise and motioned for Reigns and Jindrak to follow him as he made his way down the hall in the direction that they had arrived. Jindrak followed after his mentor without hesitation, but Reigns simply stood there for a moment or two, his gaze firmly affixed to the retreating Olympian's broad back. The scowl on his face was enough to indicate that he was not pleased with the transaction which was just made between his boss and the WWE Tag Team Champions.

The Dudleys both snickered at the big man and gazed covetously at the golden belt draped over his shoulder. D-Von pointed to the belt and commented, "Better enjoy it while you can, big man," before walking off towards the entrance area with his brother in tow.

Reigns sneered at the boastful tag team champions and reluctantly followed after Kurt Angle, his stride indicating that his mind was elsewhere at the moment.

Scotty watched in fascination as the entire transaction took place, his curiosity getting the better of him in the end. It seemed as though his suspicions were correct: Angle was dead-set on preventing Scotty from walking out of Montreal with gold around his waist, and the Olympian had apparently enlisted the aid of the Dudley Boys to help him hold true to this desire. Scotty sighed in anger and frustration; he had had just about all he could take of the Olympic Gold Medalist and his spiteful ways, _I'll be damned if I'm going to lose this chance to win the Tag Team gold with Shannon just because he refuses to stay the hell out of my business_, the returning superstar thought to himself, his anger threatening to overcome his better judgment.

The young man turned to his tag team partner and asked quietly, "Did you see all that?"

Shannon nodded solemnly, "Yeah, I did. I can't believe he would go to such lengths just to get back at you."

"I can," Scotty said bitterly, "Just be sure you're on your best game out there; we're going to need to be at our best if we want to overcome these odds."

Shannon smirked, "Overcoming the odds, huh? Sounds like fun."

As Scotty turned back to his partner to respond, a flurry of activity on the television screen before him suddenly caught his attention. Rey Mysterio was lying prone on the mat in the middle of the ring while Eddie Guerrero climbed to the top rope to deliver his patented Frog Splash. The crowd began to get to its feet in preparation for the end of the match, but as Guerrero flew downward towards his opponent, Rey quickly rolled out of the way. Unable to stop his descent, Eddie crashed into the mat below and clutched at his midsection in pain.

As Guerrero writhed on the mat, Rob Van Dam sprang up onto the top rope and delivered his own 5-Star Frog Splash in a matter of seconds. He connected, and Eddie Guerrero quickly ceased his writhing. In the blink of an eye, Rey Mysterio bounced off the ropes and delivered a leg drop right onto his old friend's head. He rolled Guerrero over onto his back and covered him for the pin-fall while Van Dam dealt with Cena on the outside of the ring.

"One . . . two . . . _three_!" the referee counted and motioned for the bell.

Tony Chimmel spoke up a moment later, "Ladies and gentlemen, the team of Eddie Guerrero and John Cena has been eliminated!"

As the defeated duo of Cena and Guerrero slowly began to exit the ring, the adrenaline began to course through Scotty's veins once more. He and Shannon were up next, and all of his earlier excitement suddenly came flooding back into the young superstar's body like a jolt of electricity. This was the moment he had been anticipating for nearly two months now. This was his chance to return to the ring and prove that he hadn't lost his touch in his time spent away. The moment of his return to the world of professional wrestling was here, and the very thought left the young man with a surreal feeling.

"You ready to do this, man?" Shannon asked his partner as he cracked his knuckles in excitement.

"I've been ready for a long time," Scotty responded quietly as he and Shannon made their way towards the entrance.

As they passed by the awaiting Dudley Boys, the WWE Tag Team Champions snickered quietly. Bubba Ray spoke mockingly, "Good luck out there, fellas. Don't wear yourselves out too much."

Both Scotty and Shannon just shot the champions venomous glances and ascended the small set of stairs leading up to the entrance. Shannon Moore's music hit the speakers, causing the young cruiserweight to take a deep breath. He winked at the returning Scotty and pushed past the curtains as the crowd cheered at this unexpected surprise. None of them were expecting Shannon Moore to be taking part in the Tag Team Turmoil Match, so his presence generated its fair share of excitement from the Montreal fans.

Scotty inhaled the musty air of the arena deeply as irrepressible energy electrified his veins. This was it. This was his big moment.

"Turn it up!" the speakers all around the arena announced as Scotty's music began to play. The Montreal crowd instantly erupted as they recognized the theme music of a man they had not seen since Survivor Series. The reception was absolutely deafening, and for a moment, Scotty simply stood there behind the curtain, too overcome with indescribable emotions to even bring his hand up and draw back the black piece of fabric. He knew the people would be excited to see him return, but he had never expected their reaction to be so incredibly loud and heartfelt. It was almost too much for him to bear.

Scotty shook his head, effectively clearing his mind of the gratifying emotions which threatened to consume him. He had a job to do. Without a trace of hesitation, the returning superstar threw back the curtain and dashed out onto the metal stage amid a cacophony of cheers from the Montreal crowd.

Shannon was waiting for him at the bottom of the ramp, a pleased look on his youthful face. He watched as his tag team partner stood on the stage and looked out into the sea of faces with a euphoric look dominating his features.

Scotty's face was beaming as he made his way down the stage. He had been away from the ring for far too long, and at that moment, he realized why he continued to work in this business day after day despite all the emotional torture that Angle put him through: this was where he belonged. This was the only profession for him. This was his dream and the fans loved him for it. His worries about Angle suddenly didn't seem so bad.

"Looks like you're a pretty popular guy tonight," Shannon shouted to his partner over the din of voices that surrounded them.

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" Scotty laughed in unbridled glee, "Let's give 'em a show they won't soon forget."

And with that, Scotty 2 Hotty and Shannon Moore made their way to the ring to do battle with Rob Van Dam and Rey Mysterio while Angle and the Dudley Boys watching intently from backstage. The night was just about to get interesting.


End file.
